Tangled up in Blue
by squeekness
Summary: Something terrible has happened to Henry McCoy and the Xs try to cope. Part five of my Twilight series!
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Something terrible has happened to Henry McCoy and the Xs try to cope. Part five of my Twilight series!

Notes: Sorry for the delay in getting this part up and running. I could run through the usual list of excuses – I got the flu, my kid is going to drive me into a mental hospital, my attention span is shrinking by the second. But mainly I've been I've been distracted by all the yummy Gambit promotional pics coming out for the upcoming Wolverine movie. The actor playing him – Taylor Kitche – is going to be perfect. I've been watching his other work, mainly his work on the TV series Friday Night Lights that is now playing on NBC. He's just wonderful there and I recommend the show to anyone who enjoys realistic shows about teens coping with the high school blues.

But enough of me! Time to read! :)

Art for this is up at my website if anyone is interested in looking at it.

---------------------------------------

(One)

"Zander had no call to say what he done," Kimble complained, worried about what his alter ego may have done. "Not after all Remy has done fer us."

"Do not fret, my luv," Aiden said to him, dutifully stoking Kimble's head as he would a sorrowful child. "You worry far too much."

The post-game Solarium at mid-morning was oftentimes quiet with the Complex's diminished population and for now Aiden was glad of it. He and Kimble had come here to recuperate after the morning's mission and there was plenty of privacy.

A good sized portion of land on this level of the Solarium had been given over for the Siskans' use and Kimble and Asher had taken fair advantage of it. In recent weeks, Kimble had restored as much of his former Westchester garden as he could – Remy had been very helpful by returning to the Mansion as often as he could and recovering as many of Kimble's old statues and shrubs as he could manage. Kimble had arranged these decorations and plants in their new home with great skill, creating a wonderful sanctuary for all to enjoy. There were shady trees and benches all about, kept company by wonderful arrangements of planted flowers and stone gardens.

Asher had done his own part by erecting a large, garage sized sanctuary that housed an area for prayer and contemplation. It was open on three sides, allowing for plenty of fresh air and had a small steeple with a cross on top, making it look like a small outdoor church. Trying to keep it as non-denominational as possible, it had a plain unadorned cross with a kneeler in front, room enough for three or four at once. Stacks of handsome leather bound, gilded Bibles were off to one side with a sign announcing they were free for the taking. He had several translations, trying to encourage as many folks to read them as he could. A small shelf of glass encased prayer candles was off to one side, there for anyone to use. Asher asked for no donations, he paid for all of it through the inheritance he'd been given by his deceased former Master, Trishnar. The sanctuary was constructed of stained hardwoods and was finely crafted, a lovely addition to Kimble's exquisite garden.

This land was not for the Siskans' exclusive and private use, anyone could come in, but with all the tall shrubs around it was private enough that Kimble would let his guard down enough to allow Aiden to touch him freely here, one reason why Aiden liked here as much as he did.

Kimble and Aiden now sat near to the sanctuary Asher had made, occupying one of the wooden picnic tables there. This table didn't have as much shade, they wanted to take advantage of the life giving sun streaming down from the mirrors above to recharge their tapped reserves. Aiden sat on the table top itself while Kimble had taken the bench, all the better to lay his head on Aiden's knee to be petted.

Kimble was nervous about what Zander had said and done. He didn't want Remy to be upset with him, though he knew at the moment that the thief had other concerns. It was obvious Gambit was still in shock over Julien.

"What did Zandair szay exactly?" Aiden wanted to know.

Kimble sighed in dismay. "Said that Remy wuz selfish and a coward. Selfish fer makin' me goes on the mission when he knews I didn't wanna and a coward fer not stickin' up fer hisself. He said that he wouldn't help Remy with his team if he wuz gonner be such a pussy. Remy ain't no pussy. Zander shouldn't never had said them things. Never."

Aiden intensified his petting, trying to quiet Kimble down while his own thoughts raced. Kimble might be worried about his own failure, but all Aiden saw was an opportunity. He didn't exactly disagree with Zander's sentiments though he might have put forward those same points with a bit more tact if he'd had a mind to bring them up.

It was no great secret that Aiden was interested in joining a team and if Remy was going to lead one, well, Aiden wanted to be first in line to sign up for it. He also knew well enough that Remy wanted to do a hell of a lot more than just fly folks around, it was obvious by how he had been right there and ready to go on the missions themselves. Remy hadn't been afraid to get right back in the saddle and Aiden was all over it.

It was a no-brainer that if Remy was to assemble a team of his own that he was sure to include a Siskan or two. Aiden also knew that he and Kimble would probably get on just by default because they would be part of the transport crew for this possible team. The more he thought about it, the more Aiden's hopes were growing. Perhaps there was some way he could help nudge the idea further into Remy's mind without being as pushy or cruel about it as Zander had been.

"Remy's gonna hates me..." Kimble continued to lament.

"Tszk. Remy knowsz better zan to blame you for anyt'ing Zandair szay. Zandair got 'isz own way of doing t'ingsz and Remy knowsz it," Aiden continued to soothe. His words were automatic, his mind a million miles away. He wanted this team badly, he was practically salivating at the thought of it now that Kimble had brought it up. "Perhapsz Remy will make disz team and aszk usz to join, yesz?"

"Why would he asks me?" Kimble questioned with alarm, mortified at the idea. "I ain't no good fer that kinda thing. Lookit what happened today. I wuz worse than useless."

Aiden clicked his tongue again in disagreement. "Zat is not true. You can fly. You are a good 'elper."

"But I cain't fight fer shit," Kimble protested. "I ain't good fer nuthin' and I shure as hell ain't lettin' Zander comes out and takes over all the time. He'll kill evraone fer Pete's sake. What good could I possibly be?"

Aiden was firm as he answered with confidence, "You earned zat jacket, Keem, even b'fore we ever go to Twilight, remember zat. Being a 'elper isz juszt asz important asz being a fighter. You sztill earn it. You are sztill needed. Do not forget zat."

"It ain't the same," Kimble argued, too low to be so easily persuaded. He clung to his bad moods as fiercely as a small child its security blanket. "Remy'll just find someone else to do m' part that kin flies and fights. There wouldn't be no place fer me then."

Aiden felt Kimble's mood sinking even lower at the thought of being rejected, trying to drag his own down with it. He wasn't about to allow it. Once they had come to the Solarium, Aiden had left Kimble alone just long enough to quickly return to their apartment and retrieve the fudge he'd purchased earlier. What Kimble needed was chocolate and Aiden opened the box now, slipping Kimble a treat.

Kimble silenced his woes at once, his shine sparkling brightly with anticipation as he saw what Aiden had brought for him. Kimble popped a piece of fudge into his mouth and his eyes closed in pure bliss as it dissolved against his tongue. He relaxed his head as it lay against Aiden's knee, calming down for the first time since they had arrived at home. The chocolate made everything better, even the natural heat of Aiden's leg felt warmer and more comforting against his cheek.

Kimble's eyes stayed shut and Aiden let him drowse, happy that Kimble had finally relaxed for the moment. If only Zander was so easy to tame. They had met just a couple of times, the Dreamer and the Punisher, but it was enough to earn Aiden's respect. The Punisher was a scary dude and Aiden would be happy himself if the guy never came out again.

Aiden was relaxed now. Kimble was complaining, yes, but this wasn't as bad as it could have been. Kimble was split, Aiden knew, and he would never be whole again. It affected how he responded to the every day stresses of his life. Kimble took things way too personally and Aiden was hoping that with time his own confidence would spread over to his lovemate. It wasn't fair how Kimble constantly put himself down, he should know better than that by now.

Aiden smiled to himself when he heard Kimble begin to softly snore, grateful that Kimble had let go of his fears enough to sleep a little. The nap would do him good.

It wasn't to be. Both Siskans startled when the door nearest to them slammed open with a loud bang. They were no longer alone.

----------------------------------

Julien was running with all he had, not really paying attention to where he was going. High on his temporary freedom, he had bolted down the hallway and thrust himself through the nearest set of double doors, hardly realizing he'd gone straight back into the Solarium. He knew it was stupid to have run away -- this building was far too complex for him to actually get away for good, but he had panicked. He didn't know what else to do. He had nowhere to go, he knew that, they were sure to track him down and lock him away for good. He just couldn't stay there when Lucas came back to Kiden, and then with Henry it had happened all too fast. Things were going from bad to worse with impossible speed. He was so tired he wasn't even thinking straight anymore. He hurt all over from far too much exercise and abuse for one day on his poor fragile body and he was so hungry now, so hungry....

It was early afternoon now and while the place was well lit, it wasn't as blinding as it had been outside. He took in the grass and the trees hoping for some kind of escape, but paused when he saw it, the tip of a tall steeple of some kind peeking out over the tops of some high shrubs that had formed a privacy wall of sorts. The steeple wasn't large, but it had a cross on it. Not knowing where else to go, he headed right for it, for the one symbol that had meant safety to him for all these years.

He found the sanctuary with ease, the path through the shrubbery was paved with crushed pea stone and easily followed. He entered the open aired building, happy to find it unoccupied, and stumbled to his knees in front of the alter, throwing himself on the mercy of his Creator. He was at a loss. He had hurt someone again, maybe even killed. He was no idiot, he knew the Honey was deadly to mutants and this place had been full of them.

He cringed when he heard some kind of alarm go off. He had no doubt whatsoever that it had to do with him and what he'd done but there was nowhere else for him to go so he remained as he was, the most terrified little boy in the world.

"Help me, Lord!" he gasped, shaking now from head to toe. He was exhausted and broke down into choking sobs. "I don't know what to do!"

There was no immediate answer to his prayer though simply being here made him feel better as he worked through his tears. It smelled wonderful inside this small building, Asher was meticulous about lighting incense whenever he could and the wonderful aroma of it had seeped into the wood, increasing the sense of this being a holy place. It soothed his jangled nerves and calmed him.

He was there a short while, even after the alarm had silenced, not immediately noticing he wasn't alone until he felt odd vibrations of peace and comfort drift over him. His head snapped up as his anger flared, he was sure it was the tall one, the one who looked like him, the one who claimed to be his father, but it wasn't. It was the strange one, the one with a girl's name -- Kimble.

The Siskan had said nothing to announce his arrival. He was simply sitting there on the grass just outside the sanctuary, as close as he could come without actually entering the building itself, as though he were afraid of coming all the way inside.

And he was.

Kimble hadn't overcome his aversion to religious sites, he had become so convinced of his own damnation on the word of others that he wouldn't risk being vaporized the moment he crossed the threshold. That didn't mean he hadn't felt Julien's distress and wouldn't respond. He had come, but only as far as he dared. It was just as well, he hadn't wanted to crowd the boy.

Julien blinked at Kimble without trust, watching him sit there as though he'd been invited, as if he had been called for. If this was an answer to his prayer, it wasn't what Julien had expected. Kimble was opening a small white cardboard box. The Siskan glanced up at him shyly as he realized he was being watched and smiled disarmingly. "The problem with fudge," Kimble said, "...is that when ya buys it, it's too easy to gits too much. Leena, she always gots out too many kinds. M' Dreamer, he always gits me one of each, but it's just too much fer one pilot ta eats all on his own. Wants ta help me?"

Julien just stared at him, his anger wisping away into exasperation. What was Kimble even doing here? Just the same, the fudge certainly smelled good and it had been ages since he'd had anything resembling candy. He came close enough to take a small piece and put it in his mouth, smiling automatically when the sweetness of it exploded on his tongue.

"Now see," Kimble continued. "Chocolate's the best thing after a good cry. The cryin' cleans up all the hurtin', and the chocolate puts the love back in. That's why it's always best ta haves some around. Fer emergencies, like."

Julien dropped his head a little, expecting that Kimble would ask him his troubles, but the Siskan said nothing more. He simply sat and munched in gentle quiet, leaving Julien to his own thoughts. He offered the box again and Julien took another. As that tender morsel dissolved in his mouth, Julien became aware that Aiden was lingering close by. Kimble's companion was resting easy against a tree, but keeping watch, smoking quietly at a distance and leaving them alone. Julien was soon to understand that these two were inseparable, one was never without the other for long.

"If that collar's botherin' you some, I kin takes it off," Kimble offered after a moment of companionable quiet.

"I don't want it off. I - I don't know if I can be trusted," Julien found himself admitting. He had been nervous all this time, fearful of his own power, but unwilling to say so. He still had nightmares of that last terrible explosion with his stepfather and he would be happy enough to never see an incident like that again. He hadn't needed to be told about Jerry's death, he still saw it over and over again in his dreams. Oddly, though, something about Kimble seemed so easy and comfortable that Julien had spoken his deepest fear without shyness.

Kimble nodded. "Well, when yer ready an' if I'm around, I kin takes it off fer ya. Remy teached me how ta picks locks. I'm jus' as good as he is though he wouldn't ever admits it, it bein' a matter of pride an' all."

Julien laughed softly at the gentle tease. He found himself liking this strange person very much, the way Kimble didn't pressure him about anything or box him in in any way. Kimble also seemed to carry an air of easy innocence that was very appealing to the world weary boy. "Maybe later."

Kimble nodded. "You hungry fer reals? It's after lunch time an' I'll bet Molly cooked up sumpthin' nice. She's the best."

At the mention of real food Julien's stomach growled. Truth was, he was famished. The kids at the Twilight camp had been fed that night before the escape, but that was hours ago now, and he'd had nothing else since then. He had no idea what time it was, the transition from one world to the next had been so jarring. He wanted to go with Kimble, but after running away, was embarrassed to return to where other people were. Would they arrest him for what he'd done? Kimble didn't even seem to know about what had taken place in the hallway just outside. If he had, Julien doubted he would be as nice as he was.

"Don' you worry none 'bouts that," Kimble answered as if reading his thoughts. "Ain't a one of us that ain't gone hidin' after a bit of a fuss. Come on, then."

Julien sat as he was. "I don't want to be any trouble."

Kimble just laughed pleasantly. "That you ain't, not one bit. But if ya still wants the quiet, come an' eats with the Dreamer an' me. I ain't so good a cook as Molly, but I ain't no slouch neither."

Now that was tempting. Julien rose and complained a little at the pain. This had been one long trying day and he wanted nothing more than for it to be gone and done. Kimble assisted him once he had come outside of the sanctuary and they walked along, Aiden silently joining them as they made their way. Julien hadn't been so sure who the Dreamer was, but it was obvious soon enough when Aiden kept right by them.

Julien had expected Remy or someone to come after him, but they were left alone as they made their way to Kimble's place. The pilot let them in and Aiden followed them, making it clear he belonged here. Aiden left them, making his way down the hall, unbuttoning his black uniform shirt and taking it off before disappearing into a bedroom off to the right. Although it hadn't been said, Julien watched this and deduced that these two were more than co-workers, they were roommates here as well, just as he and others had been back at Twilight. It explained a lot, why these two were always together.

"Would ya likes to wash up some while I cooks lunch?" Kimble asked Julien, being a gracious host and gesturing to the nearby bathroom. "I gots some sweats you kin change into. They might be big, but they'll fits ya better'n anything Aiden gots."

"Thanks," Julien mumbled awkwardly, a bit out of place in his new surroundings. This was no cabin and it had been some time since he'd been in a real house. On the other hand, a shower sounded wonderful.

Kimble led him down the hallway and into the bathroom, showing him where everything was -- the shampoo and the soap and towels. Julien's anticipation was growing, not just a shower, but a hot one and with real soap. It had been ages since he had been treated so well. Once Kimble was sure he was settled in with some fresh clothes, he bowed at Julien politely and departed, leaving him to it.

Julien was eager for it and began to undress right away. He hadn't gotten far, though, when there was a soft knock on the door. He opened it shyly to see Aiden standing there. The Dreamer had changed his clothes, he was back in his familiar khaki shorts and bright floral silk shirt. The shirt was only half buttoned and Julien could just catch a glimpse of Aiden's large golden Mark. He didn't recognize it as a Mark of any kind, to him it was an extraordinarily large tattoo. It was a bit jarring, the change in Aiden's appearance, and Julien blinked at him in confusion.

Aiden nodded at him greeting and carefully handed him some rolls of bandages and some antibiotic ointment. "For you leg," he said, letting Julien know that he hadn't forgotten that he'd been injured. Aiden's eyes roamed over Julien's emaciated torso, taking it all in as if cataloging what needed to be fixed, but he didn't comment aloud about it. Instead he offered, "If you need 'elp, Aiden will assziszt you."

"Thanks," Julien replied, feeling even more awkward. Frost had never given him bandages. The point of the Purifier was to suffer through it on one's own in payment for your sins, not to be babied. Still, he would comply if it meant they would leave him alone about it.

Aiden bowed at him as Kimble had done and withdrew, once more leaving him alone. Julien took his shower and felt wonderful. The heat made him feel less bruised, less damaged. He dressed in the sweats Kimble had given him, finding them a bit baggy, but comfortable enough. He had bandaged his leg decently, if not with any real finesse. The cuts were clean now and he wasn't bleeding anymore.

He made his way to the kitchen to see that Kimble had gone right to work as promised, slicing up chicken and tossing the bits into a pan for a quick stir fry. He was chopping up vegetables, smiling to himself as he heard Julien's stomach growl again. Julien wandered around a little, looking around the place.

The apartment was small but comfortable, neat and tidy as if well cared for -- or the guys weren't around here much. There were some shelves in the livingroom stacked with music CDs of all kinds and crystal figurines of exotic creatures. Another held a wide assortment of books – biographies, fiction and pictures books of exotic places.

The walls were decorated with a series of watercolor paintings of castles out in some bright, sunny place. What also caught Julien's attention was a small area set aside for music. Proudly displayed in stands were three beautiful guitars, two acoustic and one shiny red electric next to a small amplifier. Julien had always desired to play, but now it seemed that choice was taken away from him. There was no way his mangled hand would allow it. Alongside those were a violin and a small electronic keyboard. A harmonica kept them company.

Kimble's place smelled almost as nice as Asher's sanctuary. There were scented candles about and fresh cut flowers. Everything was so neat and tidy, Julien had never seen a place so clean and well cared for. The apartment was spotless, the beds were made and everything was in its place.

Julien glanced up at Kimble as he worked in the open walled kitchen. If he had to take a guess, it would be Kimble who played these instruments. Aiden just didn't seem soulful enough. Kimble saw him looking at him and smiled, making him feel welcome. It didn't take long before the food was done and they ate at the table, Aiden joining them from the couch.

Aiden didn't say much, Julien figured that out right away. It might have been intimidating or mistaken as contempt, but Julien didn't forget the Siskan's earlier kindnesses to him. Aiden had stuck up for him with Max and had comforted him on the ship. He had brought him bandages. He could see that Aiden wasn't angry or snobby, just quiet and aloof. There had been a lot of kids like that at Twilight and it wasn't all that unusual to Julien. Aiden wasn't tuning them out at all, he laughed at Kimble's jokes and attempts at small talk. Aiden ate his plate, set his dishes in the sink, and retired back to the livingroom, turning on the television.

Kimble watched with pure Siskan pride as Julien ate two heaping plates of food, always pleased when anything he prepared was accepted with such enthusiasm. The pilot got up after his own small plate and washed up. Afterwards, he patted Julien's shoulder. "You kin crash here if ya wants. You kin sleeps in Aiden's room."

"I wouldn't want to impose on you," Julien said though he was sorely tempted. There was an easy comfort in the simple quiet of these two people. They had both made him feel welcome and at ease.

Kimble just smiled at him. "T'ain't never no trouble. Aiden kin sleeps with me tonight, it'll be all right."

"All right. Thanks," Julien said, happy with the offer.

Aiden got up from the couch without saying a word and moved down the hall. He gestured with an easy smile of welcome to the room on the right, flicking on a light for Julien. He then moved down the hallway, disappearing into the bedroom on the left.

"See?" Kimble said, vibrating happiness. "All's fine."

Kimble motioned for Julien to follow and they moved into the room Aiden had opened for them. The room was small but comfortable. It was clear this room was used by an artist, there were small pots of paints around and brushes aplenty. Some watercolor pictures were clipped to a clothesline, hanging to dry. The pictures were of desert landscapes and snowy mountains, peaceful settings. In the corner of the room was a small daybed, comfortable and inviting with pillows.

Julien pointed to the paintings, they matched the ones out in the livingroom. "Aiden made these?"

Kimble smiled with pride. "That's m' Dreamer. He's always workin' on sumpthin'."

Julien smiled at that, but was puzzled by the warm remark. It seemed odd to him that one man might speak of another with such affection.

Kimble noticed and retreated slightly, still smiling disarmingly. In all this time, he had not yet referred to Aiden with the title he deserved – husband. Kimble was cautious and timid when it came to his private life and with good reason. He'd lived with enough prejudice that he wasn't about to push his luck with strangers who might not approve. Aiden would just have to forgive him as always. This was in fact Aiden's room, that was at least honest, but the Dreamer didn't sleep in here often. The daybed was for guests and today, well, they had one. Kimble wasn't going to tell Julien any more than he needed to know, at least not for now.

Julien was too tired to question what Kimble was about. All he wanted to do was sleep. He did have one question left, "What about that guy I came in with? Remy?" he asked, having to voice some concern about someone wondering where he was. He was still amazed he hadn't been hauled off and dumped in a prison cell by now. He wasn't about to call Gambit his father although the picture he had carried for so long pretty much made that clear. He needed more time to digest all that and was going to take it. "He doesn't know where I am."

Kimble just smiled. "He knows where yer at, don'cha worry none. But if ya wants ta talks to him about it, you can. If ya don'ts, yer still welcome here. He ain't gonner be worried fer yous, not here."

Julien hesitated, not wanting to be rude, but on the other hand, he simply just wanted to go to bed and crash. He had no idea at what point Remy had been notified where he was, there had been no phone call that he'd overheard. But then, maybe it hadn't been a coincidence that Kimble had been the one to find him. "I'll wait then."

Kimble smiled. "Good. G'night, then."

"Night."

Kimble bobbed his head at him and left.

---------------------------------------------

Just a short time earlier, Logan walked briskly down the hallway to the jails, towing Kyle along at a quick pace. Kyle grunted a bit in complaint, not knowing what the rush was about, he was more than ready to go back to his cell without a fuss. After weeks of near isolation being outside so much today had wearied him.

Logan entered the jail without bothering to greet Jordie who was still at the watch desk. The morning's mission hadn't been that long, the man's shift hadn't yet ended. Logan hauled Kyle along without being too rough (he thought anyway) and scanned his badge over Kyle's electronic lock, hoping to end this quickly. Julien would need to be debriefed and Logan couldn't wait to see what Gambit's little brat had to say about Frost.

Before Logan quite had Kyle through the now open door, the young man stiffened in his grasp, digging his feet in hard and down to the floor. Skye was speaking in his slow and seductive voice and Kyle wanted to hear it. He missed his former Master so.

"Well, now," Skye drawled in his syrupy Rogue's voice. "You left here with two lions an' I kin sees ya brung home only one. I thoughts by now you'd have learned ta takes good care of life's most valuable things. Them lions wuzn't so easy to train, you know. So vera hards to finds."

"I told ya before, Skye," Logan growled impatiently, trying to get a most uncooperative Kyle to budge, but it wasn't working. "They aren't yer lions anymore."

Skye just laughed. "Of course they is. But if you wuz ta lose one in yer infinite carelessness, ya could've at least lost the weakest one, not the best. Not my Kristalay."

Logan heard Kyle's breath catch in his throat, could smell the instant chemical change in his scent as Kyle's outrage suddenly spiked. He barely had time to catch the kid before he went ballistic, all teeth and claws as he tried to escape, to punish the one who had offended him so. Inarticulate curses came from Kyle's mouth, too garbled to be understood.

"Kyle, calm down!" Logan ordered as he uselessly tried to contain the snarling tempest in his grasp. The boy was clawing and biting him, bringing pain with every swipe of his hands. "He's not worth it!"

Kyle wasn't listening. Fed now and far stronger than he had been just that morning, he left Logan little choice but to beat him down as Kristalay would have done. It took a Herculean effort but he accomplished it. Kyle's face was little more than a mangled bloody pulp when Logan had finished. It had taken a steady rain of hard, unchecked blows to the head just to stun him long enough for Logan step out and get the door locked. It had hurt Logan to do it, he hated himself more and more with every strike of his fists against that poor kid's face but he'd had no choice. As Kyle lay on the floor of his cell, sobbing as hard as he was gasping for air, Logan could hear Skye chuckling from down the hall.

"Told ya he wuz weak."

Logan was furious, quickly diverting the dark, sick, guilt driven contempt he'd felt for himself back to the direction where it should have belonged in the first place. He stomped down the hallway to Skye's cell, grumbling curses and stood there, glaring at the Siskan, his mind going through a nearly endless roster of possible punishments. Skye was dressed in his favorite skin, that of a slim, well toned male with long fiery red hair down to his waist. He had thrown off his clothing in protest of his confinement and was naked now, showing off. All Siskans were designed to be pleasing to the eye and this one was no exception. Skye's favorite skin was unMarked, but Logan had seen the one that was and knew that his Mark was that of a bright yellow woman. It supposedly marked him as a Rogue with the Title of Catalyst though what exactly that meant, no one was certain. All they knew is that anyone who spent any real time with him suffered from physical, biological changes. In the case of his lions, it had allowed them to recover their healing mutations, but at what price? Both men were addicted to Skye's magic and not in a healthy way. Skye, being a sadist, had loved it. He was a master manipulator and it wasn't until Logan got a good look at Skye's eyes that he saw how well he'd just been played right now.

Skye had been living here for weeks now, cut off from everyone he had known except for short moments like these, and Skye had made the most of it. He had Logan's full attention now, the one thing he'd actually been after all long. All Siskans craved attention, it meant they were valued, and like any small child, if they weren't given positive attention they would be just as happy to do what it took to get the negative. Anything was better than being ignored.

Logan just growled at him, showing his fangs. "That kid down there?" he said, gesturing to Kyle's cell and speaking loud enough that he hoped Kyle would hear. "As fucked up as he may be he's still worth more than a thousand of you!" He then slammed the security switch that blinded Skye's cell, cutting off Skye's ability to see out or be heard. He put in a code, locking it out. No one would be able to reverse his decision besides himself alone.

He had been warned against doing this by those with the best intentions. They had given him warnings like how Skye was damaged and punished enough just by being isolated like this. All those stupid bleeding hearts were worried Skye might break down worse than he already was, but Logan was damned if he was going to allow Skye to shred Kyle apart any further. The kid had come so far so good to let that go to waste.

He walked away but paused outside of Kyle's cell hopeful that Kyle had heard the compliment tossed his way but if he had, he showed no sign. The boy had dragged his body under his bunk, leaving an ugly bloody smear on the cement floor and had pulled the blanket down from the bed, hiding himself away as he continued to softly sob his misery away. Cody was there with him, offering as much comfort as a poor startled feline could. Logan had been so violent.

Logan slumped a little with an exasperated sigh, upset that Skye had won. There was little he could do about it now. Maybe after Kyle had rested up a bit he might be willing to listen to reason later.

Logan started walking back to the exit, barely noticing Jordie's pallid face. The young lad was new to the job and had never seen such ferocity before. Logan had been quite cruel yet effective in getting his job done. Logan had nothing to say to him that would make any of this better and so didn't even try.

Logan's hand just brushed the doorknob of the exit when the alarm went off, making him wince. It was much too loud for his sensitive ears. He glared at Jordie and shouted, "Where?"

Jordie glanced at his security monitor and answered back, "Med Lab!"

Logan snarled, not even wanting to know. Maybe one of the kids freaked out or something. He left, heading for the Lab. His phone went off and he answered it, not even breaking stride. A call that came right after an alarm was always bad.

"Logan!" he snarled as a greeting.

It was Cyclops on the other end and his voice was strained as he said, "You need to get down to Med lab right way. There's been an emergency."

"I'm on my way now."


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes: Just wanted to take a moment to say a quick thanks to everyone who took the time to review. It's always good to hear from you guys and it helps to keep me going. It's nice to know I haven't bored you all to death. :)

----------------------------------

(Two)

The man that used to be Henry McCoy was dreaming. At least, it had to be a dream, right? Because he had never felt like this before. The rage, it was so wild and huge. It was eating his mind. He burned as if every cell was on fire and all he wanted to do was lash out and bite and rip and tear to make it go away. He had some vague memory of chasing someone or something, the only thought in his mind being -- _Kill! Kill!_ But at the moment of victory, when he was certain he'd had his kill in hand, it had just as suddenly been taken away.

He had been so furious!

His kill was gone and then came the cage. Not that he was capable of understanding bars or walls and all that, it was simply that his movements were contained. He could no longer run free or chase whatever that vague shadow of prey had been. He was restrained and he beat against the walls of that tiny prison with all of his might, oblivious to how each strike sent new shivers of pain up and down his limbs. He wanted out! He wanted meat! He wanted blood! He wanted this terrible terrible fire put out! Surely he would burn down to ash in any moment.

Eventually he did grow weary in spite of the ceaseless pain. It was harder to move and to breathe and he had no choice but to lie still and simply be, to simply feel his body as it burned away to nothing. He saw nothing but blurs, it had been that way for as long as he could remember, and he could recall nothing before this state of mind. Just this endless fire, this strange existence that was nothing more than pain and an unrelenting gnawing hunger.

He had no idea how long he lay that way -- time meant nothing in this place -- before he sensed a change in the environment around him. He opened his eyes a crack and saw a strange light coming his way through the unwavering dim. It wasn't overly bright or painful to look at, in fact it was mesmerizing because it seemed to radiate coolness and relief. It was true, because when it finally reached him and embraced him, it extinguished the fire in him instantly wherever it touched him and he shuddered with the release of some of his pain.

"M' beloved...." came a voice to his ears, a sound like tinkling bells and dripping water, reminding him of his thirst. He wanted water but had no way to articulate his needs, words failed him, all he could make were these clumsy sounds that were more growls and sobs than anything else.

It didn't matter. Water splashed his lips and reached for it greedily, spilling it all around in his haste. There was plenty though, and he drank until he was sated. The water revived him some, including his anger. He still burned.

He charged at the Light, snatching at it with his clawed hands and throwing it down. It wasn't translucent, it had substance and so he was thrilled when he was able to ensnare it and it did not escape. He felt the thrill of a successful hunt and with it came another kind of heat. He dominated his prize, feeling first great pleasure when he thrust himself inside of it and then a surge of happiness when he pressed his teeth to its throat, ready for the kill even as he neared a dizzying climax.

The Light fought him then, but not in the ususal way. There was no blood, only a strangely familiar sweet liquid that flooded his mouth. It stirred some distant memory and he relented, letting go with some of his ferocity. A thought barged its way in – _I don't want to hurt the Light. The Light is good. The Light is not prey. It is my... friend. My.... lover?_

It was enough that the Light next blinded him with a burst of sparkling orange glitter, sparkles that bedazzled him and threw him instantly under their spell. The glitters cascaded across his skin like tiny snowflakes, snuffing out the terrible heat that burned within him. He climaxed hard, a jolt that rocked him thoroughly enough to snap him back to some sort of reality, intoxicated though he remained.

"Star...!" he gasped, tears streaming now from his eyes. It came out all funny when he spoke, there was something wrong with his mouth, like his teeth were too big. It frightened him. He slid off of her, sensing the wrongness of this, of everything. He didn't want to hurt her.

"Beloved...." she whispered to him then, her voice like nothing else. She wouldn't let him go too far from her. "Nebannon al sharanatay. Wasayachay natooroo....."

He didn't know what that meant only that it sounded so good. He felt such a love for her rip through his heart he almost lost his breath. He couldn't exactly remember who she was or who he had been, only that she was so very precious and he didn't want her to leave.

"Help me...!"

"I will," the Starlight promised. "I ain't never gonna leaves ya."

Then he slept.

---------------------------------------

Logan turned around the corner of the hallway to the Medical Labs but was forced to halt when he saw what awaited him. Warren Worthington III was there with a small crew of men and they were already blocking off his route. Logan could guess that some sort of accident must have taken place, the men Worthington had with him were well known to him as the Complex's lead investigators. Warren kept a few of them around in case something went wrong and needed to be handled properly. One of them was snapping pictures already.

Logan was about to ask Warren what the hell was going on when he heard a loud bellow from down the hallway, the roar of some savage creature begging to be set free and kill. It sent a chill down his spine, it was a call to murder. Had one of the kids they rescued gone nuts?

"What's going on?" Logan finally asked.

Warren turned to him then, his eyes narrowing a bit when he saw the signs of what Kyle had done to Logan's body. The injuries were gone but the blood still stained his chest and shoulders, red whispers of healed bites and scratches. His hands weren't all that clean either, leaving Warren to wonder if there was ever a time he'd seen Logan without signs of a fight on his skin or clothes. It was as though Logan used blood as perfume. "You tell me. Remy says this is partly your fault."

"My fault?" Logan snapped back, indignant. "I don't even know what happened."

"Take a sniff and tell me, pal. You're the tracker," Warren invited, his disdain obvious. "Just mind your feet and your bloody hands. We only just got here and can't have the scene contaminated."

Logan grumbled, remembering a thousand reasons why he disliked this man. They were worlds apart and had never gotten closer than a begrudging respect for one another. Seeing him again only brought back the memory of Warren's early morning visit to Skye's cell. Maybe it was just as well that he had finally silenced the renegade Siskan. As much as he disliked Warren, he didn't want the man anywhere near that freak. But that was for later. He had work to do now. He went ahead and had his look around now that Warren had given him permission.

Mindful of the investigators, Logan gingerly stepped forward, not wanting to disturb anything. There wasn't much to see, but there was plenty to smell. Julien had been here, the stink of his panic still hung in the air. The scent was too fresh to be only from his arrival, plus the scent trail led away from Lab and towards the Solarium. The scent spread from his shoes was wide, a running pattern. The kid had been in a hurry.

Two steps more down the hallway and Logan paused at a bloody smear on the ground, Remy's. It wasn't enough blood to imply death but it was swirled, showing movement. The thief had been thrashing when he was cut, not lying still. There was no spraying or splattering of it on the walls, suggesting that no major blood vessels had been severed. That was good news, but then Warren was here, documenting, something he wouldn't be doing unless it was serious. That didn't bode well.

Logan continued down the hallway, painfully aware that he was coming closer to the howling. It wasn't moving -- whoever it was that was making that racket was contained, most likely in one of the Med Lab's two holding cells. He didn't like the sound of it. It was so angry and the closer he was getting, the more familiar.

Logan paused once more where one of the investigators had left a numbered photography evidence marker and a square of tape on the ground around what looked like a crushed glass vial. It was here that Logan's alarm bells started making some noise. Honey, there was no mistaking the smell. But what was it doing here?

_Someone brought it back with them, _Logan thought, the light going on inside his mind. _And since Julien's scent is here and Remy's blamin' me, I can guess just who it was. Crap!_

Cursing under his breath now he kept going until he came to a pile of shredded rags. These used to be clothes, scrubs with Henry's smell on them. Logan closed his eyes, hearing the monster bellowing with fresh ears._ No_, he protested to himself. _Not him. Not Henry._

"Tell me what you see," Warren demanded, now that Logan had stilled.

"There was a chase," Logan answered quickly enough. "Gambit and Henry went to run down one of the kids we brought back with us and something went real wrong."

"So how is this your fault?" Warren wanted to know. It was more of a demand than a question. "That's what Gambit claims."

"Lemmie go ask him," Logan replied though he had a good idea what the answer was. "Where is he?"

"In the Med Lab, being bandaged."

Logan squinted. _Being bandaged? Fuck! _

He made the final steps to the Med Lab. The door was being held open by a wooden wedge and he froze on the threshold when the terrible roaring was abruptly silenced. Was that good news or bad?

"It's okay," Seth said softly from beside him, making him turn. "Star is with him."

Logan squinted again. It was not unusual for Seth to be in Lab, he and Henry were very close, but the Siskan looked badly frightened. He was shaking, holding his arms very tightly around himself. Seth was far more child like than Kimble and had a strong aversion to any kind of violence. He was easily scared. Seth was here, but where was his Mistress, Fallen? It wasn't like her to leave Seth alone when he was so vulnerable. She had to have come down with the kids she'd ferried here.

"Where's Fallen?" Logan questioned.

"She's where Star is, charging her power cubes."

Logan nodded. That made sense. If Star was using energy to fix whatever had gone terribly wrong, then the Ristle energy Fallen produced could keep her going, keep her fed. The Ristle energy could be stored in special power cubes that could be recharged by Fallen as often as Star needed them. Star was a healer and if she was with Henry, this might actually be okay. He relaxed a bit and asked, "And Gambit?"

"Exam table one."

Logan got moving again, looking down the row of exam tables. The room had been cleared, the rescued children had been moved further down and deeper into the Lab, further away from Henry's horrific noise. This was some first day for them he could imagine. How many of them would leave?

"Hold still!" Logan heard Maylee complain from behind the nearest curtain. "Stop squirming."

"Je suis desole," Remy was apologizing. He didn't have an ounce of humor in his voice even as he joked weakly, "Dis don' exactly tickle, chere."

Logan came closer and pulled the curtain back. Remy was sitting on the exam table, holding his arms away from his sides. His upper body had been stripped down and Logan could see that his left side was one massive bruise. Logan could judge by the way Maylee was wrapping the kid that he'd cracked a rib or two. Thick gauze pads clung to his belly and hips, held on by bright red blood that had seeped through. He'd been clawed at but not badly, not as bad as the story the faded silver scars across his chest had told. Those had come from Sabretooth, a much more efficient killer than today's attacker had been. Still, there was enough blood to suggest he might need a stitch or two here or there. Four fingerprint sized bruises were on his neck, making him look as though someone had tried to strangle him. They had been made by Henry's newly elongated teeth but Logan didn't know that. The bruising Remy had received from Gus only just that morning paled in comparison, someone had really worked the kid over good.

"How bad is it?" Logan asked, just to get this started.

Maylee glanced up at him as she worked. "His ribs aren't broken, just very badly bruised. He's cut up a bit. He needs to stay off his feet for a while."

"Dat ain't gonna 'appen," Gambit promised, his eyes angry and hard now that he saw that Logan had arrived.

"Where's Julien?" Logan demanded. If Gambit was this calm, the chase was over.

"Wit' Kimble and Aiden. Dey bring 'im to deir place, keepin' 'im quiet fo' now."

"And how did he get loose?" Logan questioned harshly again. He'd left the kid in Gambit's charge so he already knew the answer.

"Why wasn't he searched?" came a rapid fire question in response from the agitated thief. His voice was rising as he continued to accuse, "You certainly 'ad him long enough to smack him a round a bit and tape up his face! You shoulda searched 'im, too! Or maybe you was just too busy tryin' to catch me in some kinda lie dat doin' yo' fuckin' job just kinda slipped yo' mind, eh? Once a liar always a liar, eh? T'anks fo' de trust, homme!"

Logan snarled, making a fist, but stopped short of popping his claws. He had no snappy comeback for that since the thief was citing legitimate faults, but he hadn't liked Gambit's disrespectful tone.

"Calm down you two!" Cyclops barked, walking in on them from the direction of the holding cells. This wasn't helping. He looked at Remy. "Where is the boy now?"

Remy took a deep, calming breath, but his voice was still tense and exasperated as he repeated, "Like I say, he wit Kim and Aiden. Aiden call me not two minutes ago. He safe."

"He should be locked up," Logan argued, crossing his arms.

"Dat's yo' solution to everyt'ing!" Gambit complained with real heat, getting pissed off all over again. "You a one man broken record, patron!"

"When it comes to some folks, that's the only remedy that'll do."

Remy bristled even more, knowing Logan was referring indirectly to the Siskans as well, probably Kimble in particular. Remy's own fists clenched in agitation. He was trying to hold his temper back but couldn't hide the red ripples of red energy that sparked from his fingers and wrapped vaporously around his fists. Cyclops didn't miss it, he'd never seen such a large display of Gambit's kinetic power. This was new, but then, maybe it had to do with the fact that Remy was powering a ship now. With new responsibilities came new training. What Scott really could have done without though, was the bickering.

Cyclops wasn't stupid and had a good bead on his team mates, he didn't immediately intervene. He knew that these two had been butting heads for years and it most often had to do with the Siskans. Still they had stuck side by side and wouldn't hesitate to save the life of the other. In Scott's mind, Remy had moved closer to the inner circle, he just didn't know it yet. Their last conversation had cemented that.

Maylee eyed Remy's glowing fists nervously and backed away, happy that she was done taping his torso. She was hesitating though, unsure if she should wait to stitch him up until he was calmer. She didn't want to get fried.

"You never give nobody one damn chance," Remy continued to complain to Logan, his eyes growing shiny. He was oblivious to the fact that he had caused Maylee's fright. He was too exhausted and hurting all over, fast reaching his limits. He was shaking, just one step away from hysteria. This whole time he had never once forgotten just who it had been that had been making all of that racket. Henry had been one of his strongest supporters when it came to the Siskans, he had been a loyal friend. He had in no way deserved what had just been done to him.

Logan's face broke into a familiar sneer at that. "Oh, yeah? I gave Kyle a chance today and you know what happened? He fuckin' ate someone! You don't get to lecture me on giving people second chances, boy! Not when Henry's down there screaming like some kind of freak from something yer little pup did to him! Some folks just need the cage, pal! The sooner you git that the better off you'll be!"

Remy just glared at him. The last thing he needed was to have Henry's accident thrown back into his face. He was too overcome by his anger and hurt to speak, his face flushed a deep crimson as he sat there trembling with ugly, twisted emotion. He would have loved nothing more than to throttle Logan dead in that moment.

"Gentlemen, please," Charles said, entering their space with a soft electronic whir. "Calm yourselves. No one is going into a holding cell or a cage. At least not for the moment."

"The kid needs to be questioned," Logan countered. "The best time to do it is when he's already tired. He'll crack faster."

"May I remind you that with all the squad training notwithstanding, this is not a military institution," Charles gently chided. "We are not interrogating prisoners here. I have no doubt that Julien had a good reason for what he did. He was probably just frightened."

Remy closed his eyes, trying to block out what Julien had last said to him before he had removed Kiden's collar – _If you do this, you'll be sorry. _He could only hope that hadn't been a real threat and that Julien had acted out of fear and not revenge. Even now he wanted to trust the boy, to think the best of him. His heart would break otherwise.

"Is 'Enry goan be okay?" Remy asked, trying to change the subject.

"He is alive," the Professor assured. "But he has been changed. We may not know to what degree for some time. Meanwhile, Star is with him. She'll look after him better than anyone else can right now."

"And the kid?" Logan asked harshly, his anger still fresh.

"He can stay with Remy's Siskans until he is rested. Then we will question him. Not before."

"Merci," Remy breathed, calming down some. He felt the weight of the day crash on him, he was exhausted.

The Professor knew it. "As for you, I am ordering you to rest as well. Molly is on her way down, but I want you in a bed. No arguments."

Remy nodded, suffering the man's authority. He wasn't going to fight it, he needed to lie down and pass out. At least for a couple of hours.

Logan grunted in disgust and walked off, unhappy. He wanted Julien punished for what he had done. There had been lots of frightened kids here and yet none of them had acted out like Remy's little brat had. There was discipline to be doled out and he would damned if it didn't happen one way or the other.

-----------------------------------

Minutes earlier and one level up, Rogue was rushing home as fast as her little legs could run. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed Simone until she had let him out of her sight. She had to know if he had made it home or not.

It was startling just how much his presence had changed her life these past months. He was a big departure from her past lovers, that was true. Unlike them, Simone was dependant on her for everything – his home, his maintenance, his clothing, his education in social skills. It was a little scary, this big responsibility, and she would be lying if she said it didn't frighten her a little.

He looked like a man but in so many ways he was more like a child. What would happen to him if she were gone? It was always on her mind. She could go out on a mission one day and never make it home. Even if she was never killed she certainly wasn't immortal, but since he was an inorganic being that fed on energy, he just might be. Who would watch over him when she was gone? Plans had to be made.

She had other concerns too – it wasn't a problem just yet because they were still in the fascination stage of their relationship, but she had been so used to living alone. He was always there now, sometimes under her feet and in the way, though she never yelled at him for it. It wasn't too claustrophobic having him around just yet – she had her job and sometimes Asher took him out for walks and education of the Siskan kind. She and Simone were still working out their space issues and she had no doubt they would succeed.

There were biological issues, too — it was no great secret that she was a bit jealous of Remy's twins, and these Simone could never give her. She had considered artificial insemination, but was fearful – would she pass her mutation on? She would die before she passed her curse on to anyone else. There was adoption of course and there were plenty of young orphans to go around the Complex now that the Game had killed off so many of their adult population, but she was unsure how Simone would react to a child, he had never been exposed to any. Remy had told her that most Siskans adored children, it was part of their programming, but Simone was far from normal. Would he be jealous? His social skills were a nightmare and she had no idea how long it would take to sort them out.

Rogue tried to shrug off her worries as she got closer to her apartment. She didn't like how all this fretting made her feel. All this was still a bit new to her and she didn't need the stress. She needed his arms around her.

She finally made it home and went right to her bedroom. She stood in the doorway, gasping a bit for breath from walking so quickly. She wasn't disappointed by what she saw there. Simone lay sprawled on her large bed, his hair still damp from the shower. He was naked of course, he had never been all that fond of clothes and still refused to wear them when at home. At the moment, she didn't mind, he was giving her a splendid view of his gorgeous backside. His feathered wings were draped over him, shimmering as if just for her.

She had made very little noise coming in but he knew she was there all the same. He had felt her vibrations and they had awakened him from a brief nap. His eyes were still dreamy and small as he opened them a crack. He reached for her and whispered, "Mistress...."

She smiled at him, how could she not? The word had at first embarrassed her, it brought up all sorts of disquieting connotations like big high heels, black leather and some bondage toys, but now, when he said it, it never failed to send a shiver up and down her spine. It was because he was always so genuinely happy to see her.

She couldn't resist him, not when he looked at her like that. She slid off her leather uniform jacket and left it on the floor without a care. She came onto the bed, crawling to his side, pleased as his grin grew wider as she approached. "Did your friend make it home okay?" she asked to be polite, her mind on nothing else but his perfect body.

He knew it. "Yes, Mistress," he answered, but was already pulling her close. His hands were sliding over her clothes, unfastening, taking away.

"Ah have a debrief to go to. Ah don't have time," she gave as an excuse. It was an empty one, she wasn't fighting him in the least bit. "Ah just wanted to make sure you were home okay."

"This won't take long," he breathed, his lips so close now. "I missed ya so much..."

She lay back and let him work, let him run his hands across her body. He was careful never to touch her that lightly. He used his whole hands, not just his fingers, applying pressure creatively to maximize for her the sensation of being touched, of being enjoyed. He was fully attune to her, her pleasure his only desire. He took nothing for himself, he used only his hands on her and used them well, happy when moments later she shuddered in delight against him, his task complete.

Rogue shivered there, her face to his ebony neck as she tried to catch her breath. It never failed to amaze her how this creature, once so feral that no one could come near him without being violently attacked, could finish her off so skillfully in so little time. He was so gentle with her, always. What he lacked in social skills he more than made up for here, when they were alone.

It also wasn't that uncommon for the majority of their play to be all one sided in her favor. They had done a lot of work on him, but he still had his share of problems. A long time ago he'd been savagely beaten by a former Master at the moment of climax, so he now often associated sexual pleasure with agonizing pain. He couldn't always finish himself without going rabid, though those episodes were happening less and less now. For him to be fully intimate with her took time, time they did not have at the moment. For now, he was merely content to please his Mistress and drink up her vibrations of happiness like a heady wine. He was so in love with her.

"Thanks fer savin' my friend," he said to her as though she had done all the work herself. Even now, after he had rested, his voice still had that same scratchy quality to it as if he'd been shouting all day. His voice was unique and she had grown to love it.

"You're family now," she replied. "And we take care of our own."

"Hmm....family. I likes the sound of that." He held her that much tighter.

They both startled uncomfortably when the emergency alarm sounded off. It wasn't so loud in the apartments, at least not when it wasn't in the case of fire. Rogue didn't hesitate but glanced at the alarm panel that was on her bedroom wall. "It's the Med Lab. Ah gotta go," she said, her voice concerned but not frightened. It was probably one of the new kids wigging out. She knew Logan was probably already there so how bad could it be? She was unhurried when she reached for her clothes.

Simone grunted softly in protest but let her slip away from him without a fight. She dressed quickly yet she was distracted, her eyes were all over Simone's handsome and athletic body. His Mark was long and White, a sharp contrast against his dark skin. She could see he was still excited from their loveplay in spite of the interrupting alarm but he was in control of it. She was continuously amazed at how this never seemed to frustrate him when so many other things easily could. He was very jealous of her.

She kissed him, long and deep and left, rushing off to whatever disaster the alarm had called attention to.

Simone watched her leave. He had grown accustomed to her absences and knowing that she was for the most part invulnerable, had no concern for her safety. As it was he was tired himself now after his long day. He was still too aroused to sleep and so, in order to calm himself down, looked back on his last meeting with Leroy.

After the X-men had departed from Twilight, Simone had brought his longtime friend back home. Leroy's home was modest, a small two room shack deep in the woods but not far from where the fields of Honey producing Yum Yum flowers lay. The home was constructed of piled stones cemented with straw and mortar, cozy and warm in spite of the dampness once a fire was lit. It was in a bit of a wreck at the moment though, neglected in Leroy's absence. He'd been in Frost's care for over a week. At least Frost's men hadn't ransacked the place, it was well hidden and they had never found it.

Simone lay Leroy in his bed, lit the fire in the fireplace for him, and began to tidy up. Some of the smaller woodland creatures had invited themselves in and helped themselves to Leroy's food stores. The culprits had left a trail of breadcrumbs and spilled over the jam, leaving quite the sticky mess on the table.

"There is no need for you to do that, Traveler," Leroy had said, not wanting the fuss. "I can attend to that later."

Simone just looked him over, unhappy to see the signs of Frost's mistreatment on his friend's face. He was badly bruised. "Let me makes us some tea at least."

"That would be lovely."

Simone went about the task, familiar with Leroy's cupboards enough for this. This wasn't his first visit here by far, it was here that they had planned how they might drive Frost and his men away from Twilight, plans that had not succeeded in the least.

The tea was good and hot, untouched by the invaders. Leroy sipped at his beverage, pleased at how Simone had prepared it just the way he liked it. This Siskan was thoughtful and kind in spite of his sometimes frightening appearance. "Will your people return here to Twilight?"

Simone nodded. "If ya wants them to."

"There are still children in the woods. They will need to be found."

"I'll tells them."

"Tell them they are welcome to make a home here, if they like. It could be useful."

"Dontcha wants yer privacy back?" Simone asked in surprise. Being a mostly solitary creature these days he could understand the interruption a bunch of strangers stomping through your home could make.

Leroy just smiled. "Being with you made me realize just how lonely I have been."

"I'll come sees ya anatime ya wants."

"And I am looking forward to it, but I may still need the help of your friends. This place is not safe, they have laid many traps. There are those among you who can help to remove them, yes? Perhaps this mister Logan of yours?"

"I'll asks him," Simone promised. "You should rest now. I gots ta go home but I'll be back real soon."

"You are a good and trusted friend, Traveler," Leroy said, his eyes growing heavy.

Simone stayed until his friend fell asleep and then returned home to his Mistress. He would keep his promise and talk with Logan, the only human besides Rogue he could trust. But that could wait. He snuggled now under his own blankets and closed his eyes, falling asleep before his second breath.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes -- Howdy folks! Just wanted to let those of you who are interested know that my messageboard has some recent updates to the Wolverine movie forum. A fourth movie trailer went up earlier this week and I have links to it there. Of some interest to many is that the official movie site has also been updated with some audio introductions for some of the characters, including Gambit. For the first time we get to hear just what our new Gambit will sound like. I was quite pleased with what they gave us (though Taylor still sounds like Riggins to me, lol). Links to all of this can be found on my board which you can get to through my profile page. Lots of new gifs and stills are up there as well. Enjoy! I know I am terribly excited and May 1st can't come soon enough!

----------------------------------------

(Three)

Jean Grey stood in the doorway of the east holding cell, looking in on Star and Henry as they lay together in sleep. Once Henry had quieted, Star had wasted no time in getting some much needed rest herself. The holding cell that Henry was in was similar to Skye's, there was a control panel that allowed for outsiders to look in or to have the insiders unable to look out. Because her methods of healing would be considered quite unorthodox by many, Star had called for privacy, but now that Henry was finally silent, Jean couldn't help but peek in to see how he was doing.

Jean had known Henry a long time. He was a member of what was jokingly called "The First Class," the group of kids that had been comprised of Charles' first students. It was a small class that included herself, Scott, Warren, Bobby Drake and Henry.

The class had been small and it was a good thing. These five awkward teenagers didn't have much control over their powers and the generous one on one time Charles gave them allowed them not only to grow but to thrive. Most of them were members of the coveted Gold Team and here to stay.

Henry had been large and well muscled even as a teen and a bit disproportionate with oversized hands and feet. He excelled at sports, football in particular. He was fast, strong, and always eager to test the limits of his body. Sadly, many of the awards he had won as a student before his mutation had been discovered had been stripped away once he'd been outed. It was only one of many heartbreaks to come, separating him from other folks as smart as he was. Behind those large and expressive eyes was a man still fraught with insecurity.

He was also gifted in more ways than an enhanced agility and athleticism. He was one of the smartest people Jean had even known. Henry read voraciously and was always in the library or in the Lab experimenting on something. He had been the principle designer behind the Danger Room and had a big hand in perfecting Cerebro, Xavier's mutant finding machine.

Jean could have just as easily used her telepathy rather than her eyes to view what was currently going on inside of Henry's holding cell, but Henry's initial agony had been too great for her to bear. She had a semi-permanent psychic bond with most of the Gold Team as well as those members of that First Class. She had been forced to sever her mental tie with Henry when he'd first been attacked or risk being swamped with his pain and suffering. His body had burned like nothing she had ever felt before. She could feel the gap there now, the empty hole inside of her where that connection had been. She hoped she wouldn't be long without it. He was better now, she could see, but he had trashed the holding cell's padded walls and floor. His clawed hands were still stained with Remy's blood.

They were letting Star handle things for now and so far the Siskan was doing a fine job. Jean could see that Star's rumored healing gifts were not just fantasy. Jean had seen Henry when he'd first been changed and she could see the difference now that Star's treatments had made. Some of the damage had been reversed, he looked a bit more human than he had before and he was no longer violent and wild. Twice Jean had been forced to block the door when she saw Star being mauled and had witnessed what had looked like a sexual assault, something Jean knew Henry would never have done in his right mind. Star had later assured her all was well, but the poor girl looked bruised and wasted in spite of the power cubes that Fallen had kept coming.

Jean wasn't the only one keeping watch. A spare gurney had been rolled to the wall nearby and Seth lay there, asleep now. His eyes were bruised from the strain and worry, his cheeks red from tears, but he was in good hands. His Mistress was behind him there, her arms wrapped around him protectively. Fallen was exhausted herself from the day's action and from frequently charging Stars' power cubes. No one, not even Jean, was going to begrudge them some rest.

"How's he doing?"

Jean didn't need to look to see that it was her husband Scott who had spoken. She had felt him come, his thoughts strained and worried for their mutual friend.

"He's better now."

"It's good we have Star here with us," Cyclops mused. Star was a post-Game addition to their family and hadn't been here long. "He might not have made it without her."

"Love conquers all," she teased, leaning back against him, happy now he was here. Scott was her comfort, he was her rock. She was grateful for his presence as she was sure Henry would be for Star's, once he recovered.

His arms slid around her, strong and warm. "We'll get through this, we always do. Henry is strong if nothing else."

Cyclops's memories of Henry were just as vivid as Jean's. They were the same age, Scott and Henry, but Scott had always regarded Henry as older. It was because Henry always seemed so much more mature and in control of himself, so much more self assured, even after he had been turned blue. When Scott thought of Henry, it was always of a bright eyed teenager wrapped around a book, one hand scribbling absently on a nearby pad as some idea struck him that needed work or further pondering. Henry was always busy and hardly slept even now, as though his mind just couldn't waste any extra moments in sleep.

Really what was so disconcerting and upsetting about this moment was that it was usually Henry that got them out of jams like this, not him being the one in it. Really, Cyclops couldn't even recall the last time Henry had been hurt, never mind sick. He wondered how different this would have gone if Henry had been here himself to advise. Would the patient have recovered more quickly? They were at a loss to do much else besides simply observe.

Scott turned when he heard footsteps coming close, Rogue was on her way. She had been out in the hall catching up with the investigators, but was now free to check in on her team mate.

"Is he all right?"

"He's alive," Jean answered. "We won't know until he wakes up just how bad the damage is."

"Remy's kid did this?" Rogue asked. While it wasn't common knowledge just who Julien was, Rogue had seen Julien on the ride home and had seen the relation for herself first hand. She had been given no details beyond that, there had been no time.

"Looks that way," Scott replied to that. "He's in custody but hasn't been questioned yet. The Professor wants to wait a bit to give Henry a chance to recover before we decide what to do. The debrief has been postponed, obviously. You should get some rest, you look tired."

Rogue smiled shyly to herself. Just the brief moment she'd shared with Simone had refreshed her, she was far from tired, but that didn't mean she would mind returning to his side. "I'll do that."

---------------------------------------

Molly slipped quietly through the break in Remy's privacy curtain and looked down on her sleeping husband, her face tense and worried. He was medicated for pain and drowsing now in one the Med Lab beds, waiting for her to come and take him home. She had been notified of his injury and why, but even though they had assured her a hundred times that he was in no danger, still she had been fearful.

Things had been different after his post-Game breakdown, he seemed more fragile to her. It had been hard to let him go off on his own again, but she had learned long ago that he was resistant to strangling, holding him closer would only push him further away. That had been Kimble's mistake and she had learned it well.

She came closer and took his hand, happy that it was warm and not cold. He was battered but not broken. His heart was beating strongly and with no hesitation, not all skippy like it had been when he'd been trying to rebuild his mental shields. With her enhanced senses, she could hear it where she stood. She didn't like the chemical way he smelled though, like antiseptic and old blood, but that was more the room than his body. He would be warm and safe, smelling sweetly once she had him in their bed back home.

She couldn't stop herself from rolling the blanket down just a little, wanting a better look. Her throat caught at the sight of him. He hadn't been redressed, only covered, and there was no hiding the injuries done to him. She had been told he would be bruised but this was ridiculous, the discoloration was massive and not covered up by the torso wrap alone. He had been stitched, jagged tears that marred him low and on his sides, not deep but ugly all on their own.

He would bounce back quickly from this, of that Molly had no doubt. He had been working hard these days, pushing it hard in the Danger Room and in the gym with his Siskans. Aiden was especially athletic, he thrived on hard exercise and with his enhanced strength was more than happy to push Remy's limits. For Remy, the most important thing had been getting back on the team. He needed it more than anything and Molly loved him too much to hold him back, no matter how much she might fear for him out there in the big bad world.

Molly blinked as a tear leaked out before she could stop it. It was too soon for this, he had only been out on one real mission since his recovery. Was this her future? An endless stream of hospital visits before he came home in a pine box?

"Chere..." Remy rasped from the bed, startling her a bit. His throat was dry and scratchy, made so by the drugs and the light nap he'd taken. Her vibrations of love and worry had roused him, made him aware she was there. His eyes were not open fully, the pain meds Maylee had given him were quite strong. "It ain't... so bad.. as it look."

She wiped her face, trying to be strong, but knowing he could read her so very easily. She would not smother him, not even now, not even with him lying here in bandages yet again.

_**We have to stop meeting like this, **_she signed into his hand. Her signing skills were advanced and she had taught him well, she could whisper to him in the dark in this way and he'd know her thoughts.

This wasn't the first time she'd been called down to the Med Lab on his behalf and she knew it wasn't going to be the last. It was just that this was way too soon since the Game. He was a hero and he was going to be out in the field, she knew that, but this was a bit much. Her biggest fear was that he'd go out and never come back, but she loved him too much to hold him back. She knew how important it was for him to be active and out there doing. That he needed to save lives. It was how he healed, how he kept the guilt for his criminal former life in check.

"Je suis desole, chere ..." he apologized weakly. "Dis wasn't... exactly... part of de plan."

Molly passed him a cup of water with a straw, so thoughtful. She waited for him to drink before she signed into his hand again. _**You have another son.**_

He tried to open his eyes all the way but had to settle for half. He was too heavily medicated for more. At least he felt no pain. "Logan.. .talk to you den?"

_**Asher came to see me. He wasn't sure if he should tell me but I had to know.**_

So Logan had been too pissed to fill Molly in. Whatever. He grasped her hand as tightly as he could, reaching for her with his other. "I wanted to tell you.... when we was leavin'... but I wasn't sure what to say. Now all dis wit' 'Enry...." his voice broke off with remembered grief. It was still quiet now at least, Henry hadn't resumed that horrible howling.

_**He's still alive, **_Molly signed, wanting him to know. _**Maylee says she thinks he's going to be all right. He's better than he was.**_

Remy nodded, grateful to hear it. Maybe if Henry came through this with nothing more than a bad scare, then maybe Julien wouldn't be thrown to the wolves for having caused it.

Maybe.

"I didn't know Julien was mine before we left.... I swear it. Not ..not 'til I seen his eyes," Remy tried to explain. He had learned from his past mistakes and always tried to be truthful with Molly. He loved her too much to lose her over something stupid. He had explained about Kathy Tanner to Molly before he had left for Twilight and told her he was going to save her son. He hadn't told her that Julien was his because well, he simply hadn't known it at the time. "I just couldn't tell you, not over de phone like dat..."

Molly watched him as he tried to rise, as he tried to explain more but she settled him down with a firm hand to his chest. She was the daughter of a killer, her father was Sabretooth. She hadn't inherited his healing factor but besides having enhanced senses, she was stronger than a normal human, not that she needed to exert herself to keep Remy in place. He was being submissive to her now, desperately wanting her to listen to him, to believe him.

The rocky relationship he'd had with Rogue had left its scars -- he still never expected to be trusted, no matter how many times he had proven himself. Rogue, how Molly hated her. It was a deep and silent hate, Molly was much too classy a gal to speak out about it, but as far as Molly was concerned, Rogue was to blame for far too much of her husband's insecurity. He felt far too guilty about far too many things he'd never had any real control of, at least as far as Molly was concerned. Remy still carried the scars from her, ever since he walked away, something Molly had to deal with time and time again.

He was pleading with Molly now, his vibrations of concern leaking out. He was sure she would hate him now, disbelieve and leave him. He grasped her hands so tightly, begging for her forgiveness. He would do anything to keep her focus in him, even be compliant now as she lay him back down, when he would have normally fought someone else.

He spoke rapidly, trying to get her to understand. "Logan want to question him. He goan to tear 'im apart and de boy got no one. I know he done dis bad t'ing wit' 'Enry, but 'e can't be all bad, 'e can't be. Just scared like nuthin' else."

_**He has you, **_she reassured him, wanting him to relax. _**You'll sort it out, I know you will. **_

"De boy don' trust me or anyone else 'ere," Remy complained, laying back. He was confident now that Molly was on his side and was grateful for it more than he could say, but that didn't mean his troubles were over. "Hafta keep 'im safe...Logan goan lock 'im away..."

_**We won't let that happen. We'll do whatever it takes, however long it takes. **_

Remy closed his eyes, grasping her hands that much tighter. "I t'ank de Lord fo' every day I 'ave wit' you. I know I don' deserve it, but I'm grateful all de same."

She kissed him, laughing softly. _**I know**_, she teased. _**Maylee says you can go home when you are ready as long as you promise to rest. **_

"I can't feel m' legs to walk," Remy complained, a soft laugh in his throat. "De fille go a bit crazy wit de dope. Can you stay wit me?"

_**Yes, Karen has the twins. **_

"Si bon, si bon...." he breathed and grew gradually still, her hand still grasped in his. He'd lost his fight with the painkillers and was following Maylee's orders whether he wanted to or not. Molly smiled and gently lay her head on his chest, careful of his wrapped torso, pleased just to hear his heart beating so strong and steady.

She was happy to be here with him, happy to know that it was her that he had wanted above all else. She knew that she got funny looks sometimes from other people here, that they wondered why Remy, a man whom she had overheard being whispered about as being the personification of walking sex, was with her. He was brutally handsome and with his relentless charm, drew the eye of many women in this place. She was plain, a bit hairy and clawed. She was no looker and yet she had caught the biggest catch of the place, an envious position. Even so, there could be no doubt of his love for her. He had never been able to hide anything from her, not even his affairs with Kimble, not with her heightened senses and his empathy, a tool he used freely with her to express what simple words alone could not.

Molly closed her eyes and relaxed, letting her thoughts cease troubling her. It was warm and comfortable here with him. He had always made her feel safe and valued and loved. She would fight, tooth, nail and claw, before she'd let him go.

Molly heard Asher coming long before he actually arrived, her enhanced hearing picking up the loud clop of his hooves on Lab's hard tiled floor. He came to where she was and wordlessly lay a hand on her head, silently begging her forgiveness for the interruption and wanting her to stay warm and cozy just as she was. She need not rise just for him.

Asher had come here just for a quick peek at her dozing husband. Molly watched with no jealousy as he brushed his fingers over Remy's chest and belly, using his empathic gifts to read him and make sure all was well. This meant a lot to Molly, she knew that Asher had played a big part in Remy's recovery from the Game. If there was anything wrong in places no ordinary doctor could see, Asher would fix it.

Asher smiled at Molly, reassuring her that there was nothing to worry about. He gave them both a quick kiss and slipped away. Happy now with his reliable second opinion, Molly relaxed even further and closed her eyes. Just a brief nap and then they would return home.

--------------------------------------

Julien bolted upright in his bed, his chest heaving as he was drenched in sweat. It was that same stupid nightmare he had any time he was stressed – his step-father's face right up close at the moment his arm exploded. Julien bit back a cry and covered his eyes. He was momentarily confused as to where he was, but was cautious enough to try and quiet his noise.

Just the same there was a small knock on the door. "Julien?"

The accent was muffled, but clear enough. It was the blonde, Aiden. Just the sound of that strange voice brought Julien back to where he was. He was at Kimble's and all was well. He had no idea what time it was but had a sense that it was late. "I-I'm okay," Julien stammered, wanting only to be left alone.

The door opened anyway and the Dreamer was there, looking at him with his pale green and penetrating eyes. He had the hall light on. "You 'ave ze bad dream?"

Julien nodded, but made a gesture of dismissal. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I woke you."

Aiden just smiled at him in his odd little way. "I wasz already awake. I do not szleep szo much as Keemble."

Before Julien could protest any further, Aiden slipped inside the room. He was dressed only in a pair of tight fitting jockey shorts, showing no shyness at all. With no shirt, Julien got a better look at Aiden's Mark. The large tattoo on his chest was a bright golden yellow as if newly made and Julien couldn't help but wonder how much it must have hurt when it was applied, he had never seen one so large. Aiden wasn't a big man, but he was lean and cut like an athlete, prompting Julien to think the guy must spend hours in the gym.

If Aiden knew he was being assessed, he gave no sign. He moved to a small cabinet and opened it, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses. He said nothing more but poured two shots and handed Julien a glass.

Julien took it to be polite, but wasn't sure he wanted to drink it. His step-father had been a terrible drunk and Julien had vowed never to become like him.

Aiden's smile grew a bit wider. "One drink will not 'urt you, leetle one. Will 'elp you szleep, yesz?"

"All right," Julien answered nervously. He wondered how it was that Aiden seemed to know what he was thinking. Kimble was like that, too. It was kinda weird, but not in a scary sort of way. Julien took a deep breath and tossed the drink down, hoping to gulp it and not taste it.

No such luck. It was horrible and burned the whole way down. He gasped and sputtered and Aiden sat next to him, chuckling softly as he patted Julien on the back. "Zere, szee? It not szo bad, eh?" he teased.

"N–not if you're t-trying to kill me!" Julien gasped.

Aiden laughed and drank his own shot down in one well experienced swallow. He didn't flinch at all. "Disz fine Kyrule whiskey, eh? Or at leaszt asz good asz Fallen could imitate. It sztill an acquired taszte to be szure, but all too easzy to get uszed to. 'Ave ano'der," he offered, cheerfully filling Julien's glass again.

"No, thanks," Julien protested, but to no avail. Aiden was moving the glass up to his mouth with an authoritative push of his hand.

"Truszt me, leetle one. Moszt good for you it isz. Drink disz one more, zen Aiden will leave you alone."

Julien obeyed, gulping his shot as Aiden had done. It went down easier and Julien had to admit that in spite of the bitter taste, he liked the warmth that was quickly spreading through him. He could feel a slight dizziness, it went well with the flush in his face. Aiden stroked his hair back, a gentle gesture with good intention.

Julien allowed the touch even though he was unused to physical affection. Somehow Aiden and Kimble seemed so unthreatening, he just didn't care that they touched him. All he sensed from them was genuine concern for him. "You better now, yesz?" Aiden was asking, his voice kind.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Good, zen. Aiden put ze bottle back. You know where it isz, you need it again."

Julien watched through heavy eyes as Aiden replaced the bottle securely in its hiding place. The man started to leave but paused a moment. "You dream disz dream much? Ze szame one each time?"

"Yeah," Julien admitted softly. He didn't want to talk about it, it was his own private mess.

Aiden just nodded and didn't pry, he only said this instead, "Aiden dream much, me. Not szo bad now, but zere wasz a time when it come each night. Bad, bad dreamsz it wasz for me. Aiden no szleep szo much zen, eh? De od'ersz, dey call me ze Dreamer, disz isz why you 'ear dem szay disz of me. Aiden isz not szo much ze szmart one, but disz 'e know -- ze dreamsz can take you over, if you let zem. Beszt it isz to find a way to releasze disz pain. When Aiden dream, 'e paintsz. You muszt do disz. Paint or szumptin' like it, undersztand?"

Julien smiled. Aiden was like Kimble, he didn't ask the particulars, only offered help without judgement and this Julien needed most of all. "Thanks."

Aiden nodded a good night and slipped away without another word. Julien was still smiling, feeling a little loopy now and warm, and lay back on the bed. His eyes closed and he fell instantly asleep.

He woke hours later to the smell of breakfast in the next room, bacon and eggs or something just as wonderful. He was ready to rise after so long a sleep but wasn't ready to join his new friends just yet. Instead he sat up in his bed and clicked on the lamp next to him, taking some time to look around the room, trying to get to know his hosts a little better.

The paintings that hung there he recognized from when he'd first been brought to this room, they dangled on their strings as before, dry now. He noted that a small grouping of children's toys sat in a small chair, most notably a large floppy eared bunny with an equally large pink hat stuck on its head. With no kids in sight they stood out and he wondered why they were there. It reminded Julien of his long lost sisters and it hurt a little.

Julien rose and as quietly as he could, he began to look through the drawers of a dresser there. Aiden's drawers were packed with clothes as could be expected, but he also saw a good supply of cigarettes, a bad habit that Frost had warned him against. Of course Frost had also told him that drinking was bad and Julien couldn't deny that the two quick shots of whisky he'd drunk last night had helped him sleep more easily.

Julien moved to a closet and had a peek in there as well. He saw that Aiden had a good supply of those bright colorful shirts, the one he'd had on yesterday hadn't been a fluke. They were awfully bright after the plain clothes Julien had been made to wear all these years and it wasn't his taste. He wasn't someone who wanted to stand out.

As bright as the shirts were, what was a bit surprising was a silky, black, skanky looking dress that hung by itself in the back as if trying to hide. Julien was puzzled by it. Now why would such a garment as this be in a man's closet?

Julien startled when there was a soft knock and the door opened, Aiden had come to fetch him. Julien squeaked a bit in surprise, he couldn't help it any more than he could have disguised the fact that he was snooping around in a closet that did not belong to him.

"Breakfaszt isz ready," Aiden greeted, a strange sort of amusement glinting in his eyes. He knew he had Julien cold.

"I-I'll be right out," Julien stammered, beyond embarrassed. He didn't even try to make an excuse.

Aiden stood as he was, his odd little smile growing just a bit wider as he said, "Ze dressz belong to my sziszter. She die not szo long ago."

Most of the Siskans Remy had met had been part of the Game and had all come from the same clutch. They were not organic siblings as humans would have been yet still often referred to each other as brothers and sisters, even if they had pair bonded as Aiden and Kimble had. The sister Aiden was referring to was Babette, a lovely Brown Marked Siskan that had committed suicide right before the Game had been played. Some losses were simply too hard to be borne by such creatures who oftentimes felt too much.

"I'm sorry," Julien replied, for both the loss and for snooping.

Aiden just nodded at him as if he understood it all. "She wasz very beautiful. You would 'ave liked 'er very much. But for now, breakfaszt will 'ave to do, neh?"

"I'll be right out."

Aiden had brought him his clothes from yesterday, now clean and folded. He left them by the door and left, leaving the door ajar, letting such lovely smells invade the room. Julien felt his stomach growl in anticipation. Kimble had fed him well just yesterday and even though he had slept for a good long while, he was starving again. It didn't trouble him, he was used to this, he'd had to live with the harsh demands that his body made of him for a long time now. He dressed quickly, eager to see what Kimble had made.

Kimble welcomed Julien to the table with a generous spread. He and Aiden, being non-organic beings, didn't eat much at a time. Now with a human guest, Kimble was free to go all out and impress with his culinary skills. He'd made bacon and eggs with toast and smilie faced pancakes. Julien was unused to such a feast and Kimble didn't have to work hard to get him to clear his plate.

Like the previous meal, this one was consumed in simple, pressure-less quiet. Neither Kimble nor Aiden asked him questions beyond the quality of the food, nor did they make him feel guilty for his hefty portions when theirs seemed so small. The more he ate, the more Kimble kept sneaking on his plate with playful winks and easy going smiles, setting him at ease. It made Julien relax and not fear what the new day might bring him.

Of course, these well meaning Siskans could only do so much to make him forget his troubles and it could not last. Julien had only just finished eating, wondering how he was even going move now, when there was a knock on the door. Aiden answered, stepping back politely to allow Logan to enter.

Wolverine looked at Julien, grinned his humorless, toothy smile, and said, "Kid, yer comin' with me. Now."

"Where ya takin' him?" Kimble asked, his voice growing deeper and more gravelly with each word. He was looking at Logan hard, just a hint of danger in his not so happy smile.

Logan just squinted at him, sensing more than Kimble alone behind those pale blue eyes. Zander, the protector, was the one really asking. "Security. Time fer him to answer some questions. You got a problem with it, you take it up with Remy."

"Mebbe we walk you down, eh?" Aiden offered, just to keep the peace.

Julien sat as he was, nervously watching all of their faces. The tension in the room was thick, increasing his fear. If the Siskans were concerned for his safety, then maybe he should be too.

Wolverine just shook his head and said with authority, "I know the way. Nuthin's gonna happen. We're just gonna ask the squirt here a few questions. Deal with it."

With that, Logan snatched at Julien and towed him towards the door. The last thing Julien saw was Aiden grabbing for the phone and then he was gone, out into the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Julien had no choice but to follow Logan as ordered, the man leading him down new corridors and bends so he was lost all over again. The peaceful calm he had felt with Remy's Siskans was now gone, replaced by fear and distrust, especially since the Siskans had not been invited and he had left them behind. He had no doubt that Logan wanted to hurt him but that the only thing holding Logan back was some kind of sense of rules and protocol. This was familiar, it was the fear of Frost that had kept Julien alive in the past, the kids had been too frightened of their kidnapper to kill his servant. Now it was fear of some other authority that was keeping him alive this time. But for how long?

Logan brought him to a small interrogation room. Inside was a rectangular table and some chairs. A long mirror graced one of the walls and Julien had no doubt that others would be watching. There was no pretense of privacy here, a video camera on a stand was set on one corner and a tape recorder lay on the table as well. There was a thick manilla folder waiting on the table, but Logan picked it up and tucked it under one arm before Julien could get a chance to see what it was.

"Sit," Logan barked, pointing to a chair, and the boy obeyed.

Logan gave him the eyes, the ones that demanded the boy's compliance. "We're gonna be askin' you some questions and it would be in yer best interests to answer them truthfully. Yer in the shit now, kid. People are dead and someone's gonna take the fall for it. If you want a chance to pull yer ass outta the fire, you'd best cooperate."

Julien just sneered at him without speaking, reacting to the threat with a renewed sense of hatred instead of the fear and respect Logan was probably aiming for. He wasn't sure which deaths Logan was referring to, he had many to choose from. There was Julien's stepfather, his camp mates and even possibly the big blue doctor. He had no idea about Henry's fate and hadn't dared to ask.

Julien expected Logan to sit across from him but the man simply leaned against the back wall with his arms crossed and that folder still safely tucked away, waiting. He had left the door open and kept glancing outside as though he could hear things Julien could not.

Julien had no idea what he was listening for but he got his answer soon enough when moments later a middle aged man he had never met came into the room, not on his feet but in a motorized electric wheelchair. He was dressed in a blue business suit and completely bald.

"Good morning," the man greeted, holding out his hand. "I am Professor Charles Xavier and this is my home. I hope that you've been comfortable here so far."

Julien just looked at the outstretched hand, uncertain if he should take it. These folks were Frost's enemies, they were like cops, and since he was on this side of the table, he couldn't be sure their intentions were in his favor. He chose caution and stayed as he was, keeping his hands in his lap.

"Didn't Frost teach you any manners?" Logan criticized sharply when it was clear Julien wasn't going to accept the offered hand. He was still pissed off over having to wait an extra day for this interrogation and even now Julien was still being a pain in the ass.

"Easy, Logan," the Professor said, settling back in his chair with no sign of having been insulted. "The boy has no reason to trust us."

"Mebbe he jus' need to know somebody's goan watch out fo' 'is ass," Remy said, walking in through the still open door. He winked at Julien to set him at ease. "Ain't no fun bein' ambushed."

"And yer going to be his advocate?" Logan questioned dubiously. It wasn't like Remy had any law skills or anything. He was a bit surprised to see the thief there so quickly, clearly Aiden hadn't wasted any time in contacting him.

Gambit just shrugged, his eyes merry. "He's my kid. Why not?"

"That hasn't been proven," Logan argued.

Remy waved a hand at Julien. "Look at dat face, at dose eyes. You really want to go down dat road, patron?"

Logan just snorted rudely in irritation but said nothing more. It wasn't like he had any ground to stand on.

Julien watched as Remy walked stiffly to his side of the table and eased himself carefully down into the chair beside him like an old man. He was dressed casually in a black T-shirt and blue jeans, the shirt too tight to hide the fact that his ribs were still taped and his belly bandaged. Julien watched him come but he was still too aloof not to suspect some kind of "good cop/bad cop" routine going on here. He shifted his chair away from Gambit, not wanting him any closer. He hadn't forgotten what had happened the last time they had met – the chase in the hallway, the Honey. Julien could take an educated guess as to why Remy was now injured far more than he had been before that.

The door was still open and Julien wasn't surprised to see another man enter behind Remy. This man was tall and in uniform black, a strange pair of glasses with red lenses over his eyes, making him look oddly powerful. There was an unspoken deference that Julien sensed from Remy and Logan, but not as much from the Professor. Charles was still the man in charge and it was him that Julien kept in his line of sight.

This man was all business in the now crowded room. He remained standing and nodded at Logan, giving him a wordless command. Logan moved to the video camera and switched it on. The man began to speak into the camera, "My name is Scott Summers, Codename Cyclops. Also present are Professor Charles Xavier, James Logan codename Wolverine, and Remy LeBeau codename Gambit. We're here conducting this deposition on behalf of SHIELD and we swear under the laws of perjury that no powers are being used to coerce or produce false testimony on the part of the witness, Julien Tanner." He then looked at Julien and said, "State your full name and age for the record, son."

"I'm not your son," Julien retorted, the words just slipping out. He was a bit sensitive on the subject, especially with Remy right there beside him. He cringed a little after, not liking his own voice. He had wanted to be tough here, to do Frost proud, but even that sounded weak.

"Dis would go better if you just do as de man say, fils," Remy said, trying to keep his voice even and non-confrontational. "Dis ain't supposed to be no kind of fight."

Julien kept his eyes on the Professor but did as Remy suggested. "My name is Julien Michael Tanner and I'm eighteen years old, more or less."

"Yer eighteen and I'm the friggin' President," Logan snorted. "This ain't workin', Slim. He ain't gonna tell us one word of truth."

Scott glanced at Logan with a frown, unhappy with the use of his nickname. He was trying to keep this as formal as possible. The point of recording this was that Scott fully intended to turn this over to SHIELD as part of a plea to keep Julien in their custody and out of a SHIELD prison. In order for that to happen they needed to show that Julien was a pawn locked under Frost's spell and not acting on his own. This was important as Julien could face the death penalty just like Frost was at this moment.

"Your birth certificate says otherwise," Scott replied to the boy, ignoring Logan as best he could.

"I haven't always lived here," Julien gave as an explanation to that, still keeping his eyes on the Professor. It was in mild defiance to his questioner. The crippled man seemed the least threatening of the three men.

"Time is different in the pocket worlds," Charles said, making it a question.

"That's right."

"How many have you seen?"

"Three."

Logan arched an eyebrow in mild surprise. He hadn't realized that Frost was that well traveled.

The Professor kept the questions coming. "Will you please state their names for us and how long you lived in each?"

Julien considered his answer. So far the questions he was being asked were not incriminating in any way that he could see just yet, he saw no harm in answering. "Havenwood was the first and I was there only two months if you go by how often the sun went up and down. Toranado was after that and we were there three years by the same reckoning. We've been in Twilight about six months now."

"Why was Toranado the longest?" Charles asked with real curiosity.

"It had the most resources we could use."

"What sort of resources?"

"Gold and diamonds."

"What did Frost use them for?" Logan asked, breaking the polite volley between the boy and the man in the chair.

Julien's face changed, becoming snotty as he retorted with an obvious lie, "He didn't tell me and I didn't ask."

"I hope you don't think being an asshole is going to help you," Logan snapped irritably in reply, bad cop indeed. "Answer my damn question."

"Mebbe we just start at de beginnin', non?" Remy suggested then, trying to break the tension that just soared in the tiny room. If he was going to be the good cop of the pair, he was going to do this as sensibly as possible. His goal was the same as Logan's – to get the most out of the boy as they could. He just had better ways of going about it. He had seen quickly that threats were not working so he tried patience instead. "Why don' you tell us how you an' Frost met."

Julien looked at him, a bit surprised by the mildness in Remy's tone. It was complicated question to answer and a loaded one as well. Julien glanced at both Cyclops and the Professor but both of them were sitting this one out for the moment, waiting to see if Remy could pry loose what Logan could not.

Julien considered his answer. Maybe if he could get them to see that Frost wasn't the monster they had judged him to be, the man might be freed. It gave him a glimmer of hope and he began to speak.

-------------------------------------

It hadn't been long after Kiden had set her ghostly lion Aslan on the gang of boys that Frost had come sniffing around. He'd been alerted to the presence of mutants in that area by a small article in the paper about the incident. Kiden hadn't been mentioned or even found, all that was reported was that a young boy had been mauled by some savage beast that had somehow vanished without being captured. Nothing cried out "mutants are here" better than a mangled body with no good explanation for it.

The X-men hadn't been unaware of the incident but had been too busy gearing up for the Game to do much about it, they'd had bigger fish to fry. As he listened to Julien tell his story, Logan couldn't help but be uneasy. If they had missed Frost's activities during that time, what else had gotten past their radar? The world was a busy place with too many players, both good and bad, making their moves in it. Well, there was nothing that could be done about it now.

Julien hadn't known at the time but Frost later explained that he had sent out his scouts, looking for some "lost souls to save", which Logan understood to mean some kids to exploit that no one would miss. They weren't that hard to find once Frost had gone looking in the right places. Knowing that such children often needed a bit of coercion, Frost had gone at night, sending out his best men with tranquilizer guns. Frost's men were not the best money could buy, not just yet, but against such defenseless prey, they had performed decently enough. Both Kiden and Julien were taken in their sleep without even knowing it.

"And you honestly think it was okay for Frost to do that to you?" Logan challenged, unhappy with the thought of their rights being violated so casually. He had serious problems with anyone who felt they had the right to take anyone or anything by force, and he had good reason to – six metal claws worth.

Julien met his gaze without flinching. "Sometimes with the lost, extraordinary measures have to be taken," he explained as if it had been memorized. It had been, actually, so many conversations he and Frost had shared where all of this had been justified – to Julien's satisfaction anyhow. "My soul was saved."

"Was it? If you were so saved, why'd you need that leather strap with the barbs in it?" Logan argued, trying to get the kid to see reason. Logan knew lots of Christians and none of them had been forced to such extremes to prove their faith.

Julien bristled at Logan's condescending tone. He didn't like being put on the spot, defending what should have been obvious to anyone. Discipline came in so many forms. As a military type, Logan should have understood that easily. Julien hissed at the man, "If you don't like my answers than stop asking me questions."

"Yer in an awful precarious position to be runnin' yer mouth off, boy," came the sharp reply. "Best be careful now."

Remy waved a hand impatiently, trying to clear the air. This wasn't getting them anywhere. "Where'd Frost take you guys?"

Julien blinked at him, letting go with his anger a little. His respect for Remy was rising a bit, the guy was leading him away from things he didn't want to talk about and back to safer ground. It didn't mean he trusted him any more than before, however. That would take time. "He took us to Havenwood."

"Tell me what it look like dere, fils."

Julien began to speak, but he was spare with the details.

He had woken up in a drunken, drug induced fog to find himself in a wooden cabin, lying on a canvas cot. There were glass windows near his cot, but they had been soaped over, not allowing him a view of the outside. This particular cabin was set up like a barracks and had two rows of beds, most of them filled with young kids like himself, all of them boys. He recognized a couple of the faces close to him as belonging to the gang of kids that had approached him and Kiden at the dumpsters. Frost had been quite thorough in his hunt.

"Kiden?" Julien called out, concerned for her, but the only answer was a harsh derisive grunt from a man standing nearby with an automatic rifle in his hand.

"Don't worry," the man assured with saccharine sweetness, "Your little girlfriend is just fine. My friends have seen to that."

Julien's alarm spiked at that, he had an idea just what the man had implied. He might have been uneducated, but he wasn't stupid. He had to get to Kiden, he had to save her. He couldn't even begin to imagine how awful it must be for her right now. He rose to his feet in protest but a surge of nausea halted him, his head was spinning. The man just laughed, finding amusement in Julien's weakness.

There was some commotion then as another man entered the cabin, followed by an armed escort, marking him as someone important. He was an older fellow, in his forties and dressed in military clothing. Unlike his cohort, the clothing looked odd on him, like he was dressing up and trying to look more important than he really was. He did not look as spit and polished as the others. Still, they deferred to him, showing respect. He was the boss no matter how he had dressed. His hair was cut short making him seem severe and aggressive. He looked over the group of kids and shook his head with regret. "Not the best crop we've ever harvested, boys. What a shame."

"Ya hafta make do with what ya find," one of his associates chuckled. "At least the girls were pretty."

The man in charge ignored that last remark and stood a bit taller as he addressed the room. His voice was firm and full of importance as he announced, "I am Jason Frost and I will be your host for as long as you remain here, which if I have my way, will be the rest of your natural lives."

"You have no right!" one of the kids protested. "Let us go!"

Frost was unmoved by the outburst. "I have been empowered by the Lord, my son. I have every right and been given the means to cleanse your souls. Someday all of you will thank me for this."

"Liar! You're just some stupid Jesus freak! Bring us back home!" the same boy challenged and charged at Frost. He had been just as medicated as Julien had been and was sloppy, not at full strength. It hadn't diminished his spirit no matter how misplaced it might have been, his courage would never be doubted by those forced to watch, even as he went down.

He was immediately set upon by Frost's men and, being an easy target, was beaten down to the floor. They hit him with their rifles and their fists without an ounce of mercy, splattering his blood upon the walls and the floor. He fought them to the last, snarling and spitting even as they bashed his face into something unrecognizable as human. Julien squeaked in fear, having never seen such raw savagery inflicted on anyone besides his mother. It was the scariest thing he had ever seen, especially when it was so clear that he was in no position to stop it or escape. He was too weak, too small, and much too afraid.

Frost himself never flinched from the violent corrective action taking place or even moved from his spot. He surveyed the small collection of teenagers, looking them over. "Understand, that I have been given full authority by God himself to deal with you. There is no law here but mine. You will do as you are told. You will work and you will pray that your sins may be forgiven. Any of you who fail to cooperate will end up like this poor lad." He gestured to the poor mangled heap of flesh at his feet.

He then looked at the men behind him and said, "Process them."

The kids were unbound and rounded up, herded off to a shower and given some rough clothes. There were only seven boys in the group, an easy number for their captors to manage. The shower revived Julien from the drugs he'd been tranquilized with but the clothing was a big step down and didn't fill him with the least bit of hope at being treated well here. This was Julien's first set of bluejean coveralls and they wouldn't be his last. His captors took everything from him that he had come in with except his underwear and his shoes. He hadn't brought much from home, all he had were his clothes and a small wallet that he'd always carried, one that contained little more than the photograph he'd taken from his mother, the one with Kathy and Gambit together. All of that was placed into a brown paper bag with his name on it that was then whisked away, leaving him to wonder if he would ever see them again. The only thing he would have missed was the photo but he wasn't about to ask for it. He wouldn't risk a beating like he'd just witnessed.

Once washed and dressed, they were once again inspected by some of Frost's men. All the herding around had aroused some of the kids to thoughts of escape and they had resisted. Any of the lads who had been tempted to use their powers to do so were smacked around without mercy and those who had shown more than just simple enhanced strength were then collared. Julien watched this with an ever deepening dread. He was never going to get out of here. Yes, he understood in some small part of his mind that he might be powerful enough to do something here, he had done that unforgivable thing to Jerry after all, but he was so scared, so very scared. If he failed, he would be beaten worse than anything Jerry had done. Put under pressure by the men who questioned him, fearful of an accidental release that might end in his own death, Julien admitted to being an energy producer the first time he was asked and was collared without a fight.

Of course Julien left this last little tidbit out as he explained this to the X-men in the room. They would never have understood, they would have found him weak.

Logan squinted skeptically at Julien as he described his rough beginning. Julien might have thought the X--men were slow, but Logan was anything but. He immediately asked the one question Julien had hoped to avoid. "How come you never used yer power to fight back? You probably could have kicked their asses, even untrained."

Gambit had asked himself this question but when he considered the evidence that had been left behind at the New Jersey trailer, had an idea of the answer already. Julien stiffened in his seat, dark colors ripping through his shine. This he didn't want to discuss.

Remy set his hand on the table towards his son as a goodwill gesture without actually touching him. "You ain't de only one to 'urt someone wit' yo' power by accident," he offered. " 'Specially when it come out in self defense. Ain't nobody goan judge you 'ere."

Julien looked at him, meeting his eyes without an ounce of trust. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, his voice too soft to conceal it.

Remy just smiled at him, trying to do his best to charm without using his empathy. How he would have loved to send out some vibrations of calm to ease the kid into just admitting what they all knew, but he wouldn't. He didn't want to taint his son's only chance at being allowed free. "I seen de place where you used to live, fils. I seen de big burn mark left dere and it ain't de firs' one I ever seen like dat. Made of few of dem m'self when I was yo' age. Tell us about Jerry, ain't nobody goan 'urt you 'ere."

Julien tucked his left hand deeper between his legs, hiding it. "I didn't do anything."

"Then it would surprise you to know that Jerry is dead," Logan growled, his eyes gleaming with some sort of triumph. How he hated lies. "Somebody blew his arm clean off. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? You just ran away for kicks."

Julien's jaw clenched and he began to shake. He felt vulnerable here. These people knew everything about him already, they were just toying with him. He was completely out of his element here and unprotected, the road paved with land mines wherever he stepped.

"The truth is the only thing that will help you here, Julien," the Professor said, trying to be as gentle about this as possible. He understood what Logan was trying to do and that it needed to be done, he was just trying to make this as painless as possible. "Help us to understand what you've been through. Help us to know who you are."

Julien dropped his eyes, feeling the weight of the world come crashing down on him. He had avoided looking at these things for years, it was a trend he had hoped to continue. If they were so sure he was guilty, whey didn't they just lock him up and get it over with? It would be easier than having to endure this.

"Did you or did you not attack Jerry Tanner?" Wolverine barked, not one to pussyfoot around like the others here. It was time to cut to the chase and stop coddling the lad. "It's a simple question and one even a pea brain like you can figure out. So, answer me, boy! Yes or no!"

"He hit my mom!" Julien snarled right back at him, riled up by the insults and giving way under the pressure just as Logan had hoped.

Logan just smiled, unfazed by the lad's outburst. He finally opened the manila folder he'd been holding all this time and lay down a couple of papers. "But that wasn't the first time he'd done that, now was it? Got some police reports here. Domestic disturbance. But nuthin' 'bout you. Nuthin' at all."

Julien glanced at the papers but didn't read them. He could read now, he'd been taught, but he didn't want to see this man's lies.

"Why don't you tell us how yer hand got all busted up?" Wolverine continued to question as he lay some photos down, one by one. These were the Polaroids Remy had taken from the trailer, the ones that showed the terrible beating Jerry had given him as a boy. "He beat the shit out of you as kid and then, later, on that last day, he did yer hand, didn't he? And you lit him up for it. Isn't that right?"

----------------------------------------------

Remy cringed at Logan's question, he couldn't help it. It was the lack of tact. He didn't see the point of ripping the kid to shreds over something that had clearly been self defense.

Julien glared at Logan, but he was shaking now. He was angry and scared, the emotions so deeply intertwined he wasn't sure what do to or say. He was screwed now, he could see the judgement in Logan's eyes no matter what Remy had promised. They had him all figured out, so they did, or at least they thought so. He was going to die for certain now, he would be executed by them for his crimes. Instead of the thought scaring him further, it numbed him, making him cold. He let out a long, slow breath and simply answered, "So what if I did?"

"It means somethin' to me, kid," Logan replied, his tone altering slightly, becoming less accusatory. "So answer me, yes or no -- did you light Jerry up fer smashin' yer hand?"

"Yeah, I did it. So what?" Julien snapped back, using angry words to make himself sound a lot braver than he was. He had nothing to lose now and he would be damned if he would beg for their mercy. No, let them have his anger instead.

Of course Logan saw through it. "Because a kid who done something like that mighta been so freaked out by it that he might never want to do it again, no matter where he found himself. He might even let some religious nut like Frost roll him over rather than defend himself with it... or his girl."

Julien squinted at him in confusion. He was unused to this kind of verbal jousting and had no clue what Logan was saying. Was this man actually defending him? Or was this just another kind of trap? It had to be a trick, it had to be. There was no way this man who had only showed him cruelty intended something just a little more noble.

Remy, on the other hand, let out an actual sound of real surprise. He had been thinking this whole time of Logan as his adversary. He never once considered that Logan was a hell of a lot smarter than he gave him credit for. Logan had made a leap that had never once crossed his own mind and he had made that leap easily. It wasn't a stab in the dark either, there were colors in Julien's shine that shimmered in agreement.

"Frost didn't 'roll me', whatever that means. He was my father," Julien protested as he had earlier, his conviction still unwavering.

"What make you t'ink dat man yo' father?" Remy questioned, still not getting it.

"He saved me from my sins. He taught me things no one ever had. He set me free," the boy answered strong and true, not an ounce of deception in his reply. "That's what a real father does."

"What could Frost possibly teach you that wasn't some kind of con?" Logan countered before Remy could ask it himself. It didn't mean he missed the dig tossed Remy's way.

"He taught me to read and write when no one else had bothered. He taught me the fear of the Lord and to know my place in this world." Again Julien's answer was unwavering. He was back on solid ground now or thought he was.

"You never go to school when you was growin' up?" Remy asked in surprise, still a little stung from Julien's last remark. Most of the kids that had come to the Complex had still attended school, even if it had only been up to a certain point. Had Kathy really been that irresponsible?

"Jerry said I was a freak," Julien replied, the disdain returning to his voice. "It wasn't allowed."

Remy's fists clenched again in anger and he was forced to remove his hand from the table as he tried to hide it. How had Kathy lived with this man? How could she chose him over her own son? As a parent himself, he couldn't comprehend it.

"He wasn't wrong," Julien said, looking at Remy strangely, as though he disapproved of the thief's anger. "He saw me for what I was."

"And what was dat, fils?" Remy asked quietly, confused by what the boy was saying.

"I was unclean," Julien replied. "What I did to him only proved him right."

"Excuse me?" Remy snorted with righteous indignation. "Dis guy beat de snot out of you! He didn't even care dat his wife gotta play de whore to pay for his drug habit!" Gambit was furious now, so angry he could hardly get the words out. He had seen the police reports – her arrests for prostitution, the drug paraphernalia lying around the trailer. He was too smart not to have figured that much out on his own. "And you t'ink dat couyon be better dan you?"

Julien was unwavering as he answered with complete calm, "He was normal, not a freak like me... like us."

Remy raised a finger for emphasis as he countered with, "Dat only make him lucky, not better. Dere's a difference. You got so called 'freaks' like us usin' our gifts to go out in de world to help dem dat need it while dat lowlife only ever helped his own self, understand?"

Julien considered that, though his conditioning was too perfect for him not to dismiss it. There was no way a normal person could not be better than an imperfect and inherently sinful mutant, not when the mutation itself was a sign of the sin. He did at least note Remy's outrage in defense of his mother and for one moment he wondered briefly how different his life might have been if this man had raised him.

Logan grunted at the boy. He couldn't hide the disgust in his voice as he asked, "Just because Frost taught you how to read and to have the fear of God doesn't make him a saint. Look at what he did to the others, to Kiden. Were they worth any less than you?"

"They didn't accept the Word as Truth," Julien answered with a firm voice. "They got what they deserved. It was part of the Cleansing."

"You can't seriously believe dat, fils," Remy had to say, his voice full of doubt. This was too much for him to take. "Nobody is dat naive."

"No, Remy," Charles interrupted. "He does believe it."

Remy cursed softly and shook his head, looking away.

"Tell me how Frost taught you," Charles asked the boy, his tone light, interested. He wanted that look into Frost's twisted mind and with Frost in custody and out of reach, this was the only way he was going to get it.

Julien nodded and cautiously began to explain. He was again spare with the details, but Charles, being very wise, could almost picture just what Julien had gone through from what was said... and what was not.

Charles had long known that Frost had a taste for theatrics, it was why he chose military dress when he hadn't earned it. His methods for religious training fell into that same vein of symbolic visuals and thunderous speeches.

Freshly washed and newly dressed, the kids were next herded outside. It was full dark now but Julien could readily see he was far from home. The camp here consisted of several wooden cabins spread out over an open grassy field. Trees lined up in the distance, blocking out some of the stars. There were two moons hovering above in a cloudless sky, one much larger and brighter than the other, and the air was fresh and sweet. If there were cities here with cars, they were far, far away from this camp.

Frost had his armed men lead the kids down a dirt path, between the trees and out to a nearby river. The men moving them along had torches and with the light of two moons to guide them, they made their way easily without stumbling. Julien had never gone camping, he'd never been out of a city. This was all new to him, but even though he was scared because of his situation, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by the beauty of the nature around him, even in the dark.

The path they were forced to walk along ended at a river. Trees had been cleared away from the edge so that there was plenty of room for the gathering. Frost was there already, standing in front of a blazing bonfire loaded with enough wood that it would be burning a while. Frost himself had put aside his military dress for more priestly garb – he had a long white robe with a red smock over it, a brilliant golden cross blazing down the front of it.

"Welcome sinners!" he greeted with a grin as wide as a hungry crocodile's. He spoke to the group as if they had actually volunteered to be there. "Come closer and be cleansed!"

"Fuck you!" came from the crowd. It had come from behind Julien and he hadn't seen who had spoken.

It didn't matter. Frost's smile never dimmed, not even when the speaker was knocked to the ground by the butt of a gun and then dragged forward by two of Frost's men, big grins on their faces. Someone at least was enjoying the show. Frost snatched at this new victim, a boy younger than Julien was. The kid was small and fragile, his face and body covered with lizard like scales. He was a simple beta and uncollared, in no position to defend himself, something Frost was counting on. He said to the boy, "So you deny your sin? I'd be very careful if I was you."

"You're no priest!" the child snarled. He may have been small and disfigured, but he was very brave. He was having none of this. "The only sinner here is you!"

Frost had the boy in a vice like grip. He thrust his captive at the crowd. "See his face? This the face of sin! His mutation is the mark of that sin, make no mistake! See the color of his skin? See his scales? These are the marks of the unclean! Of whores! Drug addicts! Murderers! Thieves! This is the reason you all were sent to me! I will cleanse you all!"

Julien's mouth popped open as an idea slammed into him, finding purchase. His mutation was the sign of his sin? It marked him. Exposed him for what he was – a murdering son of drug addicts, of a whore. These were the words Frost had used and in Julien's current state of disorientation, it all made a sort of sense.

"You are directionless," Frost continued to say, still holding his child victim up like a prize. "I will give you direction. You have been idle too long, living and scurrying around on the streets like disease ridden rats. I will give you work. I will give you purpose and the pride that comes from good toil. I will place you back on the path of righteousness. It will be hard, it will be painful, but you will be cleansed. You will be thankful. You will be grateful!"

There were grumblings of dissent from behind where Julien was standing but no one dared to shout out as the first boy had. Already Frost was cowing them with his easy familiarity with violence. They didn't agree with him, but no one wanted to be punished next.

Julien stood where he was, not fighting this any more than the others were. He was different from them though he didn't really know it. He'd grown up a child of violence, it took a lot to faze him and so far, nothing here was of any real surprise. Frost and Jerry had a lot in common – both used drama and excessive force to get their points across. The one thing that Frost had over Jerry was the first part of Frost's opening speech. Jerry had called Julien a freak and Julien believed it, but Frost had actually told him _**why **_he was a freak. It would make all the difference in the world. There is nothing so comforting as knowing the why of a thing, even if the reason was frightening. It still makes sense. Frost had Julien's complete attention.

Frost jerked the child in his grasp around to face him. "What say you? Do you want to be cleansed?"

The boy snarled and spat in Frost's face, answer enough.

"Then be cleansed with fire!"

Frost whipped the kid around, thrusting his legs and feet into the nearby bonfire. The boy howled in agony, writhing and kicking. Too late, his clothing had caught alight and he was burning, the injuries serious. Frost didn't let him suffer long. He had a lesson to teach and while death was one of many weapons in his arsenal it was too soon just yet for that. He next tossed his prey into the river, putting out the flames before the boy's whole body was burned.

The water wasn't deep or fast flowing, but it was enough to at least stop the fire. The boy still thrashed, his pain more than the other kids could bear without making noise of their own. One lad even tried to go to his aid, but he was knocked down. "Let him suffer!" Frost bellowed. "Pain cleanses! Suffering cleanses! This is how we learn, this is how we become saved!"


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

"Monstrous..." Charles whispered, shuddering in his chair. He knew Frost had been cruel, it was the only way to effectively control so large a group of captives. It was true of every race of man, of every harsh dictator that had ever ruled a country. Frost knew his history and it had paid off in spades. Of course he must have missed the part where just about all of those cruel men fell eventually, just as he had.

"What Frost did was just," Julien answered to that, his voice steady and firm. His conviction was unwavering as he continued, "He was right, suffering cleans away our sin. It purifies us and brings us closer to God. We can't cure our mutation, but we can make ourselves pleasing to the Lord through our pain. We can be saved in the next world if not in this one."

Charles looked into the eyes and soul of this poor brainwashed child and didn't have the heart to try and change his mind. It would be too great an effort, something that simply could not be accomplished in one sitting. Instead he said, "I think we need a break. We can continue this after lunch."

"You're kidding, right?" Logan protested. "We've only just gotten started."

"We'll get to the root of things," the Professor promised him. "..but there is no need to rush. Kimble and Aiden are outside. They can have custody of Julien again for a while."

Logan made a disgruntled snort. He did not approve of the married pair of Siskans being so close to this child who was clearly a religious fanatic. That was a bomb just waiting for a place to go off.

Remy shot him a hard look and Charles just squinted, saying telepathically, _It will be all right. The child needs to be looked after and I agree that placing him in holding will do more harm than good. Besides, it just for the afternoon. How much trouble could there be?_

_With those freaks? _Logan answered most unkindly, years of training allowing him to seamlessly carry the conversation on telepathically without skipping a beat. _You never can tell. _

_Dey'll be fine, _Remy insisted_._ His voice was mocking and sharp as he added, _He spend de night dere without dragging out de garlic and wooden stakes._

Out loud the thief offered to Julien, "You go to de Solarium wit' de boys, get some sun and air. Den you all can come eat wit Molly and me. Meet de rest of yo family."

Julien nodded and said, "All right," not because he was overjoyed at the idea, but because it was certainly better than anything Logan might have had in mind. He had an idea that something had just wordlessly passed amongst the group but he wasn't sure what it was or how it had been done. Either way it was vaguely creepy.

"Let's be back here in a couple of hours," Scott suggested, though it came out more as an order. This was going to be finished.

The group broke up and headed out of the room and into the hallway outside of Security. As Charles had said, both Aiden and Kimble were there waiting for them. Aiden was leaning against the wall, one foot up, rolling an unlit cigarette in his slender fingers like a coin. Kimble sat on the floor next to him, staring off to one side, bored. Kimble's smile brightened when he saw them come and that Julien was uncuffed and free. It was a good sign.

Remy walked up to Aiden, whispered something to him, and slipped off, heading back home to give warning to his wife that they would be having company. He was still stiff and slow as he moved, something a few day's rest would hopefully fix.

Aiden took Julien's good hand and tugged on him possessively, his eyes daring Logan to stop him. "Disz way," he said and pulled the boy towards the nearest Solarium door. Kimble fell right into step behind them without a questioning word.

Logan made a face, showing his teeth, but he said nothing more. He would be more than ready to shove Remy's face in it when disaster struck as it surely would soon. Nothing good could come from so young and bewildered a boy in the care of those two bozos.

Julien didn't protest as he was towed along, the trio moving quickly and away from Wolverine as fast as possible. Once they were out of sight Aiden released him and they slowed to a more comfortable pace. Julien relaxed, feeling a huge weight lift off of his shoulders. He was already growing comfortable with these two fellows and there was nowhere he'd rather be at that moment.

"You okay?" Kimble asked him as soon as it was safe. "They didn't trouble you none, did they?"

Julien blinked at him, hearing the genuine concern there. He wasn't used to being looked after by a stranger like that. Although Kimble wasn't so strange, he thought. He already felt like an old friend, comforting and warm. It was the lack of judgement in his eyes, Kimble didn't care who he was or who he had been. He just wanted to know he was all right.

"I'm okay," Julien answered, happy when he saw Kimble's relief. "They didn't hurt me or anything."

Aiden led them through the hallways to the Solarium, taking them up to the next level and back to Kimble's flower gardens. It was a place of comfort to the Siskans and they spent most of their Solarium time there. It was home. Julien saw the familiar steeple of Asher's sanctuary and asked, "Can I go there to pray?"

"No problem," Aiden answered, happy to have a spot where the boy was comfortable. Besides, it would give him a chance to smoke that cigarette he'd been playing with so longingly.

Kimble's pace slowed as they neared the sanctuary, his shoulders slumping some with assumed damnation. While he could appreciate the aesthetics of Asher's pretty structure, it still represented a place where he could never go. He didn't go so near to the building, but stopped off to the side, near a picnic table where the lad could be kept in sight. He wouldn't come any closer without a reason like he had before.

Aiden followed the boy closer, stopping between his two charges. He had no worries about Julien as the lad continued, already Aiden could see that the sanctuary was occupied. Asher was there and Julien could be in no worse hands, not in that place.

Julien balked a bit when he saw Asher inside the sanctuary. He had hoped to be there alone. He was about to turn away when the centaur called after him, "Yer welcome here, kitten. This place is the Lord's house and he don't ever turn no one away."

Julien had wanted the privacy but he was lulled by Asher's easy way of speaking, of his familiarity with the Lord. Asher spoke like Frost did, like someone in the know. "Who are you?" Julien asked, still uncertain. He was a little put off by the fact that someone as mutated and sinful as Asher was could even be inside and so close to the cross. Even Kimble's blended skin seemed less out of place than this mythical looking boy.

Asher squinted at him, tilting his head a little with some sort of curiosity. He clomped over to him, his hooves loud on the wooden floor. His arms were full of bibles, but he shifted them some so he could extend his hand. "M' name's Asher and I serves Him here. You are shurely welcome as is everyone. Come in and pray."

If Julien had thought Asher's skin looked strange, it paled in comparison to the bizarre fact that he was holding those bibles and not bursting into flames. Frost had made one thing abundantly clear – the unclean, as all mutants surely were, could do many things to make themselves more pleasing to the eye of the Lord, but in no way should they ever be allowed to touch the Book. All of their oversight and education was to come from normal humans who were clearly their betters. Not once, in all of Julien's extensive training under Frost's care had he ever been able to even look upon the sacred Book, never mind actually touch one. It was forbidden, an unforgivable sin.

Asher blinked at him, seeing the strange colorings swirling through Julien's shine, but not understanding what it meant no matter how intuitive he was. "Ya likes these?" he asked, shifting the bibles again. "You kin haves one ta keeps if ya wants. I gots plenty as you kin sees."

Julien jerked back in horror, he couldn't help it. He'd been trained far too well.

Aiden started forward, seeing things over at the sanctuary weren't going so well. He had been sitting next to Kimble at the picnic table, smoking and keeping his lover company, but he had been dutifully watching Julien carefully as Remy had asked him to. He rose to his feet but was stopped by Asher's raised hand, asking for patience.

"God's word never harms, only heals," Asher explained to Julien, being very slow and careful as he spoke, not wanting to spook the lad. "The Book is God's word. It's meant fer us all, sos we kin knows Him better. Dont'cha agrees?" Asher's eyes were bright and hopeful, just begging for Julien's acquiescence.

"I'm unclean. It is forbidden for me to touch the Book."

Asher laughed a bit, bewildered by so wild a notion. His smile was open, friendly, as he gently countered with, "The Book wuz made fer the unclean, kitten. How else is we gonner knows the way back to Him?"

Julien stood as he was, trembling with confusion. Here he was again, being questioned for what he believed in. On one hand Frost's teachings had made such absolute sense, nothing as unclean as himself should be allowed to touch something so Holy. On the other, Asher's question only seemed to have one sensible answer. Still, it was so hard to let go of what had helped him cope with life all these past years.

"The unclean must be taught by the clean," Julien replied eventually. Asher had been patient, letting him consider his answer uninterrupted. "Only normal humans can read the Book and teach us the proper way."

Asher's eyes lit then with a brightness Julien didn't understand. Remy would have. Asher, being very quick, had sussed this situation out right quick, so he had. His reply was wise and knowing as he said, "And how do ya knows they teached ya right, kitten, if you don't ever reads the Book fer yerself?"

Julien swallowed and stood as he was, frustration crinkling his brow. Like the rough volley of exchanges he had shared with Logan all this was starting to hurt his brain. He was being tricked, he had to be. This creature before him was surely the Devil, testing him now that he had been ripped so cruelly from Frost's protection.

Asher saw it, saw the wall come up. He smiled at the boy with saintly benevolence, sadness deep in his light grey eyes. "There's lots of folks out there usin' the Book fer no good purpose. They tricks us inta thinkin' we cain't never belongs. You ain't the only one what's had his head turned round the wrong way. M' brother there, Kimble, he's been teached the wrong things too. Now he ain't never gonner comes to knows God on account that he thinks he's been too bad ta ever be wanted by God ever again. The thing is, the thing he keeps fergitten, is that God made us and he is perfect an' Holy. Why would God ever turns away what He made on account of how it was made if He wuz the one what mades it? If we do the askin', God will hears us. But Kim's now too afraid ta ever even asks cuz of what someone teached him that wuzn't right."

"What did Kimble do that was so bad?" Julien asked in surprise. He couldn't imagine gentle Kimble doing anything that would make him think he had been condemned so completely. He was however thankful for the distraction now that the conversation had switched to someone other than himself.

Asher just smiled politely. "That's private an' ain't my story ta tells. That's 'tween him and God. Just unnerstand that he ain't near half the sinner he's been made ta thinks he is. Like you, he's been given a vision of God that ain't exactly perfect. He fears God's judgement so much he cain't feel God's love and fergivness at all. He's scairt of what he don't really knows. Maybe you are too."

"You're wrong," Julien answered without hesitation, back on point. There was nothing anyone could say or do to change his mind on that score. He had killed someone, once if not twice. He still hadn't been told Henry's fate.

Asher lowered his eyes, seeing that this boy was not going to yield. It didn't mean that there was no room for compromise. "Well, I kin only hopes that the Spirit finds its way to yer heart and lets ya knows the good an' lovin' heart of yer Maker. 'Til that happens, would ya at least likes to come inside and prays? We kin do it together if ya likes. The Lord shure does like comp'ny. Prayers is always more powerful when they comes from more'n just one."

Julien hesitated, he wasn't sure that this stranger knew as much as he claimed to, but Julien's desire for prayer won him over and he relented. He stepped inside and took his place beside Asher who had already gone to the kneeler at the small altar.

Asher winked at him, pleased that he had come. He went right into the Lord's Prayer, happy that Julien at least knew that. He was carefully testing the lad, trying to discern the depth of how ineptly trained the boy had been. He next chose a series of Psalms, careful to choose those that emphasized God's loving kindness and forgiveness, his role as Father and Creator. These Julien knew none of but he listened very attentively as Asher spoke them with great care.

Once finished, Asher looked at the lad. "You gots anathin' ya wants to add?"

Julien nodded and began to speak. As Asher had feared, the lad had his own Psalms to add. They were not complete, but had been crudely mashed together, all the better to emphasize God as the Ruler of All, as the Mighty Avenger, the Wrathful Punisher of all those had sinned and rebelled against him. Julien spoke these words as one who felt he had been wronged and was seeking the Lord's protection against his enemies. Julien was scared and it came out in what he chose to say.

Asher could not fault the boy's source, the lines had come from the Bible to be sure, but they had been taken out of context and not properly arranged as they should have been. This child had not been correctly educated and Asher wanted so badly to help him just as he wanted to with Kimble.

"The Lord will looks after you," Asher promised as soon as Julien had finished. "He's already provided ya with a place ta lives thats gots people what care about you. Ain't nobody gonner hurts you here, not without me an' m' kin havin' no say abouts it."

Julien wasn't so sure about that. He still didn't feel entirely safe here, no matter what he was being promised. Still, in the short time that he had spent with Asher he did have some questions of his own. "Is Kimble really your brother? You talk the same way but you don't look anything alike."

Asher just laughed. "We come from the same place if that's whats yer askin'. But we ain't brothers the way you means it." It was more complicated than that of course, but Asher didn't know if this was the time or the place to go into anything so complicated as the creation of Siskan holograms. Many people here still couldn't quite accept the idea of aliens, never mind ones that created artificial people. There would be time for that later, when the lad had settled in a bit more.

"Brothers! Brothers and lovers we is!"

Julien startled at the small squeaky voice that had come out from nowhere, but Asher just laughed and reached into a brown leather bag that had been set to one side. He pulled out the strangest creature Julien had ever seen. It looked like a ferret but was the oddest color he had could imagine on a furred animal. It was purple of all things and he couldn't help but wonder if it had been dyed.

"Smee, quit yer racket!" Asher gently chided. He raised the small creature up, cradled it in his hands, and rubbed his nose along Smee's round furry belly, "Yer such a chatterbox!"

The tiny creature giggled at the attention and wiggled his tiny feet, making Julien wonder if this was all some sort of bizarre dream. Since when did ferrets talk, never mind laugh like that? "Is it real?"

"Really reals fer reals! Smee is real and alive! So very wise!" the creature trilled, the sounds bubbling out of it like a child's song. It was still laughing.

"This is Smee," Asher said, finally introducing them. "It's kinda complicated, but he's a Mumbler and they all talks, each and every one. Whether ya wants them to or not."

"Lunchy lunch! Time for Smee's lunchity lunch lunch!" Smee continued to babble, his beady black eyes twinkling.

"They ain't none too subtle neither," Asher playfully lamented, rolling his eyes. "Yer welcome to join us if ya like."

"I think I have to stay with them," Julien said, gesturing to where Kimble and Aiden were. Truth be told, he was ready to go. He found Asher's religious differences too strange for the moment and his pet even stranger.

"That's all right," Asher said without taking offense, rising to his feet. "I sees Aiden's on his way ta collects ya anyhow."

It was true. Aiden had crossed the grass from the picnic table and now stood just inside the sanctuary, beckoning for Julien to come. He had made a point of crossing the threshold for Kimble's sake. He wanted the pilot to see that he, a creature probably more damned than Kimble was himself, would come to no harm here. Aiden wanted Kimble's fears to end but not the same way that Asher did. Aiden doubted the existence of God with as much strength as Kimble had come to fear him.

If Kimble got Aiden's point he gave no sign. He simply waited patiently for Julien to leave the sanctuary and then joined him and Aiden on the path as they made for the exit. It was time for lunch.

-----------------------------------------

Julien wasn't sure what to expect as far as Remy's living quarters went, but he was a bit surprised to find Aiden leading them straight back to the apartment he and Kimble shared. Right across the hall, Aiden was knocking on the opposite door. Julien guessed that perhaps he shouldn't have been all that surprised that they lived so close together, they did fly Remy's strange little ship after all. His two benefactors seemed to belong to Remy in their way.

The apartment Remy lived in was laid out exactly as Kimble's was, there were no surprises here, not in this cookie cutter Complex. It smelled wonderful in here, however, whatever was going to be served, it was certain to taste as good as anything Kimble had given Julien earlier.

Remy answered the door with a welcoming smile and waved the group inside. Molly was standing there, waiting patently as Remy introduced her to Julien.

"Julien, dis my wife Molly."

Julien politely held out his hand to be shaken but balked when Molly reached for it. He was gaping at her clawed hands, fearful now of being cut. It was more than that, Remy could see. As with Asher, Julien's judgement was in the way again. Molly could never pass for a normal human and he was immediately wary of her for it.

Molly's hands moved away from Julien's, leaving him untouched. They went up and around her face, motions that made no sense to the boy who was already on edge. He stepped back from her, making a face and raising his hands defensively.

Remy lay a hand on his shoulder. "Easy, fils. She don' mean no harm. Molly, she talk wit 'er hands. Dat's 'er sayin' hello and dat she welcome you 'ere."

Julien shrugged Remy's hand off in revulsion and stepped back even further, his eyes automatically meeting Kimble's own in a silent plea to just be taken out of here. He wanted none of this, of these strange people who seemed to want something of him he wasn't ready to give.

"It ain't so bad, Jules," Kimble said, gently steering Julien inside and over to the couch to sit. "Just wait and see what Molly made fer us. She's the best!"

Remy watched them go, his smile wilting a bit. He had hoped Julien might be more receptive to him after having been with him earlier, but clearly that wasn't going to be the case. He was a bit confused at first as to why it was that Julien was so receptive to Kimble who was far more mutated looking than Molly was but the answer to that was fairly obvious to anyone who capable of seeing it. Kimble did not possess the Morrowhiem glitter but his empathy was still strong. He was vibrating a near constant ripple of soothing waves Julien's way, coercing the child to a calm compliance. Remy wasn't sure if Kimble was doing it deliberately or if it was a symptom of Kimble's ever present desire to be liked and loved. It was just as well that Kimble had not been allowed in the interrogation room. What Kimble was doing was against the rules, cheating. Remy allowed it now, if only that it was keeping Julien more at ease than he would have been without it. The kid was just too stressed.

Molly drifted off to the kitchen and went back to the cooking. She was trying to be brave, Remy could see, but she was hurt a little bit. He had warned her in advance that this might not go so well so he was hoping she would let it slide. He followed her and stood behind her at the stove, rubbing her shoulders with gentle affection, wordlessly begging for her forgiveness. She smiled at him, her eyes still sad but her smile grateful for him being there.

Aiden glided in after them, taking a seat at the table. He fiddled with the sugar bowl for all of a minute before his limited attention span got to the best of him. He got right to the point, asking, "Isz it true you wish to asszemble a squad of you own?"

Remy turned to face him, a bit surprised at the unexpected question. He certainly hadn't brought it up to anyone, not even to Molly. Where had Aiden learned of this? It had to be from Zander, if indirectly.

Remy took a seat at the table. The twins were there in their respective high chairs, cooing softly and chewing on snacks. He held out his finger for Jean-Luc to grasp, smiling when he did. "I hadn't given it much t'ought, mon ami," he answered distractedly, evasively not looking Aiden in the eyes.

Aiden grinned at him, his eyes playful. He vibrated the word, _**"Liar"**_**, **even as he practically demanded, "I would very much like to 'elp you wit disz, me."

Remy's smile grew wider and this time he did meet Aiden's pale green eyes. "If I was to put together a squad, you'd be m' firs' choice fo' co-captain, cher. Hands down."

It was the truth. Remy loved Kimble dearly, it was true, but he was well aware of the Lover's limitations. Aiden wasn't the best at communicating, but he got things done. He was organized and not afraid to work. He had fighting experience and had made it clear he was eager to do field work. He was fearless and steady under pressure. He wanted on a team but with Logan's fierce prejudice, wasn't going to get one unless it was this one. Unless it was Remy's.

Aiden was quite pleased with that. His smile changed, grew a bit sly and teasing as he next asked, "If you did make disz szquad, yesz? 'Oo would you pick to be on it, zen? Hypot'etically szpeaking."

Remy's eyes grew merry, he was willing to play along. It wasn't like any of this was actually going to happen, right? "If I 'ad m' firs' pick, it would be you and Kim, no question. Somebody's gotta fly us around."

Kimble in the next room, sitting next to Julien and doing his best to keep the poor estranged boy company, stiffened at that. He looked to Aiden for help, his eyes a bit wide with alarm. He wanted no part of this. The flying he loved of course, it was belonging to an actual combat ready squad that frightened him.

Remy continued, oblivious to Kimble's surprise. "Mebbe I'd give dat Kyle kid a shot too, just to piss Logan off."

" 'E did fight very well and 'e wasz very brave," Aiden mused, twirling the sugar bowl again. Anything that annoyed Logan was fine by him. "...even if 'e did eat szomeone."

Molly grunted at that, turning around to look at the pair, her eyes wide. _**He did what? **_she signed rapidly in alarm.

"It wasz one of Froszt'sz big bad men, dear," Aiden said to her, smiling in his way. "No one of any importancze."

Molly's glare intensified, she didn't like Aiden's cavalier attitude about something so horrible. She didn't want anyone that screwed up anywhere near her husband. Squads were hard enough to run without the members turning their captains into light snacks. _**Are you kidding me?**_

Remy waved a hand at her reassuringly. "We just talkin', chere. None of dis any sort of done deal. Don' take it serious, eh?"

"Ze girl wit ze hornsz, she was pretty to look at, no?" Aiden offered next with a short laugh. "Gracze. She wasz szweet on Logan, heh."

Remy laughed at that. He'd been too distracted by Julien to notice. "She do anyt'ing besides look good?"

"She shifter. She chanje back and fort', 'uman to goat. Wasz pretty impresszive."

Remy arched an eyebrow in interest at that. Shapeshifters were handy to have around. They had their uses. As long as they were just playing around, Remy counted off on his fingers. "Not a bad start. We got a feral cannibal, a good lookin' shift changer, got the teke wit' Kim, strong guy badassery wit you. What we leavin' out?"

"Keemble only one flyer, mebbe we need anoder? A telepat' could be uszeful, too."

Remy nodded. "Mebbe one of de new kids. Look like we got in quite de crop."

_**Maybe you two should finish this discussion later, **_Molly signed before setting some plates on the table. It was time to eat. She couldn't really tell just how serious these guys were. Remy said he was kidding but she couldn't miss that thoughtful look in his eyes. Aiden's planted seeds just might have found fertile soil.

"Food's ready," Remy announced, motioning for Kimble and Julien to join them. They came, both of them wary now – Julien because he was a stranger here and Kimble because he hadn't like the way that last conversation had gone. Not at all.

Molly had made a generous, cheese and vegetable laden lasagna and salad. Freshly made baked bread rounded out the meal and they dug in eagerly.

Remy took a moment to introduce Julien to the twins, Jean-Luc and Sandy. Julien nodded at the babies, a small frown marring his face. He didn't like to look at them, they reminded him of his sisters. His running away from home and subsequent abduction had been so life changing he hadn't had much time to reflect on that particular loss in a long time.

Remy noticed the frown and could guess where it had come from. "I'm sorry about yo' sisters."

"Why would you be sorry? You didn't know them," Julien replied dissmissively. He didn't like how Remy was shoving all these new people on him. This was supposed to be his new family? A doggie woman and two little babies? At least the little ones didn't have any obvious mutations. They must be pure, too free from sin yet to have been marred.

"A loss is still a loss. You too young to 'ave all dat taken away from you,"Remy offered, really trying not to take offense from this difficult child. He was hoping they might have some ground to relate to one another. They had more in common than Julien realized. They were both destructive energy producers, both had killed accidently, and both had become orphans.

But Julien just wasn't giving him a chance. The boy just shrugged irritably and dropped his eyes, not wanting to talk about this or anything else.

The meal continued on in uncomfortable silence. Julien ate his food, a bit fast at first, he was still so hungry, but then slowing when he saw there was plenty. This was going to be a big change for him, eating his fill at every meal. He wasn't sure if it would last. Would they feed him so well once they dumped him in a holding cell? Did they feed their death row inmates so generously? The thought of his possible impending doom tanked his spirits a bit and killed his appetite. He missed Frost then, deeply. Frost always knew what to do. He always had good advice to give.

"Sumptin' on yo' mind, fils?" Remy asked cautiously, sensing the mood change in the boy. Grief and rage were the easiest emotions for him to pick up on, they ran the deepest. If he had thought Aiden had been difficult to approach in the beginning, Julien was worse.

Julien's eyes flicked up uncertainly to meet his. "Is Kiden okay?" he asked instead of what he had actually been thinking about. She had been on his mind to be sure, but not at that moment.

Remy smiled, his eyes a bit hard. The father in him answered, "Dr. McCoy still a bit touch and go, but 'e probably gonna be okay. T'anks fo' askin', fils."

Julien froze, his fork partway to his mouth. He didn't know what to say to that. It was true he hadn't been told about the man he had poisoned, but he hadn't asked either, which had been Remy's point. To have asked would have shown remorse. It would have at least been polite.

Julien's face flushed hard with embarrassment, his heart thundering in his chest. Was it always this way with these people? All this verbal back and forth? All these mind games designed only to hurt and jockey for positioning? It made him feel stupid and small and weak. He couldn't compete with them. He couldn't take any more of this. A cell would be better. It would at least be quiet.

He dropped his fork to his plate with a snarl of frustration, his brain hurting, and jerked awkwardly to his feet, almost toppling his chair over in his haste to simply get out of there.

Remy rose with him, hissing with pain from the effort, and took the boy's arm before he could get too far. "Don' you go, petite. I didn' mean it like dat. It's just you should have asked, non?"

Julien glared at this man, this red eyed sinful freak of nature that was supposedly his father, and his heart had nothing but hate. "Let me go!" he demanded through tightly clenched teeth.

"Non," Remy replied, steady and firm. He held Julien's arm tightly in refusal. "I'm never lettin' you go. You 'ad a bad time, been used all wrong by people who never gave one damn about you. Dat's gonna change, right here, right now. Sit. Eat. Yo' girl's just fine."

Julien relented, if only because he didn't have the strength to free himself from Remy's vice like grip. He sat back in his seat with a huffy grunt, completely miserable. He was never going to fit in here. He did not belong.

Remy took his seat as well, going much more slowly about it. His ribs hurt and it was tight to breathe. He should never have gotten up so fast but there was no way he was going to let his kid walk out. Not like that.

He turned at Julien to say, "I know you 'avin' a hard time, fils. I know you all upset and scared, but it will get better, je promets. It's only been one day, oui? You gotta give us – you gotta give _**me**_ some kind of chance."

Julien looked at him, his eyes so tired now and sad. He nodded just so they could simply drop this and he returned to his plate. He was no longer hungry, he just pushed his food around, killing time. They would be leaving soon, going back to the stupid questions and word games that he had no wish to play. The thought of it made him so weary, so weary.

He startled a bit when Kimble gently bumped his shoulder with his own. "You looks tired," the Siskan observed. "Why don'cha lays down on the couch a bit? It's real comfertable, I promise."

Julien nodded, happy that Kimble had given him an out and he did as the pilot had suggested, shuffling off to the couch with his head down. He lay down and not realizing just how tired he'd been, was out like a light before his third breath.

Remy watched him go and sighed a bit in frustration. This wasn't going as well as he had hoped. Julien was proving to be quite stubborn.

"Gives him time," Kimble said, soft and low, trying to do his best at keeping the peace. He patted Remy's arm reassuringly. "When he sees yer not his enemy, he'll comes around."

Remy just smiled at him gratefully, always appreciative of the Lover's attempts to make him feel better. Kimble desired peace and harmony. Kimble might underestimate himself, but Remy didn't. There was no harm in having someone like that on a team that might encounter hard times and stress. Kimble, like Asher, was a calming influence.

The meal didn't last much longer before Remy's phone buzzed. It was time for them to go back. Remy almost didn't have the heart to wake Julien but Logan was insistent. It was time to go back.

------------------------------------

Star was most definitely not having the best time. She loved many things in this world but it was her blue furred Master that she loved best of all and she had come so close to losing him. It had been a full day since Henry had been poisoned and still her work was far from finished.

She lay on the dirty floor of the east holding cell, exhausted. Her Master had been placed in here and in his fury, he had shredded the foam padding from the walls and made quite the mess. The room hadn't been designed for this kind of madness but it had been the closest and the most safest place to store him at the time of the attack.

At least she was warm. She lay curled up against the great blue Beast, the body that had once housed her Master. The Honey had done its DNA altering work, but she had been able to keep it from accelerating too far, she had kept Henry alive. She had even been able to reverse some of the worst of the cellular damage – there was only so much a body could take before it simply destroyed itself — but she knew that he had been permanently altered and would never be the same again. Her Morrowhiem glitter was powerful, but it still had limits. His body remained larger and a whole lot hairier than it had been before. His face had become more leonine and less troll like. His hands had thicker fingers and longer claws, he would have dexterity issues to deal with later.

But all that was cosmetic. She was more concerned about his mind.

Star had many Masters over the years of her long life and had been called upon many times to heal them. She'd closed their cuts, saved them from killer diseases, but this? The Honey was a poison unlike anything she had ever come across. It had taken the limit of her skill just to stop its deadly work and even a little more to try and reverse the damage. The effort showed on her tiny body. She was thin, her eyes bruised around the edges from exhaustion. The power cubes that Fallen had charged and given her through the sliding metal food tray were sustaining her, but it would take many recharges to heal the ravages of draining her reserves like this.

Star squirmed and snuggled closer to her Master, draping one large furry arm across her waist. His body was on fire, still radiating an above normal heat, but at the moment that warmth felt lovely. With her being so tired, his feverish release sustained her and gave her great comfort.

She missed him already, her precious Master. How she loved to lay with him like this. Not here in the holding cell of course, but in their bed together, his huge body so close to hers. Seth, one of her closest kin now, had once given her a song that he thought she might like. The title alone had made her smile – Tangled up in Blue by Bob Dylan. Yes, the lyrics didn't exactly fit, but she had liked the song well enough. It made her think of him, of the one who had finally given her peace in her long life.

Beside her now, far from the bed they shared together, Henry groaned and twitched, dreaming. It wasn't a happy one, judging from his vibrations. Even now he was still so angry, still in pain.

Star dared to stroke the arm that held her, dared to whisper more soft encouragements in his ear, an ear that didn't even look the same as it had just yesterday morning. Glitter sparkled from her fingers and burrowed through his fur and down to his skin.

"Mrrowr...!" he growled in response and waking a bit, rolled over, pinning her underneath him. He parted her legs with his knees and roughly took her, rudely not even bothering to ask for her permission.

Star didn't fight him. She knew the way her powers worked and there was always a price. He wasn't even fully conscious as he ravaged her, heedless of the tears that streamed from her eyes. He was much gentler now at least, far more careful than the previous two times he'd forced her, an insatiable lust brought on by her healing ability. He wasn't the first Master to come at her this way during a healing, but he was at least the only one to show remorse for doing it. It wasn't that he actually apologized, but when it was over, when he was more like himself each time, she could see the regret in his eyes, taste it in the vibrations of sorrow that leaked out along with his love for her. It made all the difference in the world.

Henry shuddered hard and came to a finish quickly. In this feral state of mind it never once occurred to him that this was a mutual activity and that he should at least try to please his mate. At least it was over quickly.

He moved off of her with a satisfied grunt and lay on his belly, his head down as he tried to catch his breath. As good as this pleasure had been, his body still didn't feel right. He was getting closer to sanity with each healing session, but not so close yet that he could figure out just what had gone so terribly wrong. He looked at his hands in a daze, knowing that even this was not right. His fingers, such as they were, were thick and heavy. Not how they used to be. He could smell faint traces of blood there, but didn't know whose it was. He had no memory at all of rolling Remy in the hallway outside of the Lab.

"Master..?"

He turned his head and looked at her, the one he still only recognized as the Starlight. She was becoming more and more solid to him as the time passed, becoming more of a person to him, though. He wiggled his strange new fingers at her. "N--not.. right...." he tried to say to her. His mouth still seemed the worst of all the changes. He tried to ignore it, but every time he tried to speak he was instantly reminded of it. His mouth was too full, his teeth huge and clunky.

"It will get better, my love," the Starlight promised him and he loved her for it.

He leaned in and for the first time, tried to actually kiss her. He couldn't do it though, his mouth was all wrong, so he licked her cheek instead, discovering that she tasted wonderful, like warm sweet candy.

She giggled at that, liking his rough kiss much better than the attention he had given her earlier. His tongue was raspy now like a cat's and much larger than it had been before, it tickled in a good way and made her smile. Her laugh thrilled him and awoke in him a powerful desire to please her. He came closer and lay her down again, this time being very careful not to push her with any force. He kept it up, the gentle caress of his tongue against her neck and face. He was tender now, more himself. His affection for her was strong, even as he slowed and drifted off to sleep once more.

Star was overjoyed, her soul rejoicing with pure happiness. Now she knew for certain that he could be healed, that he could be reached. She'd been so afraid. Never before had she been this concerned about losing a Master. This one was the first that had truly loved her the way she desired and it had been terrifying, the thought that he might be gone forever.

Star let him rest easy a long while before slipping out of his heavy embrace. She staggered stiffly to the door, her body aching from his earlier abuse. She rang the call button and wasn't surprised when she got a swift response. Seth was there and had been ever since Henry had gone down. "Yes, sister?"

"I needs ta feeds. After that I think he kin be moved," Star suggested. "Maybe to the private room in the back? It gots a shower. He needs ta be washed up some and this room is all a mess from what he done to it. Maybe we kin gits some real food inta him, too. We kin takes some of the furniture out of the back room just in case he gits all rowdy again. We'll need an escort just the same."

"Sure. I'll get Fallen," Seth offered and was gone, off to get his Mistress.

Fallen came quickly enough, bringing fresh power cubes for Star to use. Fallen was as small as Star was in size but since she was a telekinetic, was more than able to help with moving Henry around. There was also an issue of safety here, she was as powerful a telekine as Jean so if Henry freaked out during the move and tried to hurt them she would be able to contain him. Once Fallen arrived and Star had fed, Star shook Henry gently awake and whispered soft words into his ear, hoping that his anger had cooled enough that he wouldn't fight them.

Henry grumbled a bit in complaint at being roused, but was compliant enough, having calmed from Star's last treatment. His mind was still dazed and drunk from her power, his body still struggling from having been poisoned. He could hardly stand but Fallen was able to keep him upright enough that he could shakily push one foot in front of the other to walk.

It took a few minutes for them to make just the short distance to the private room and the shower. Once in the bathroom, Star could see she might have been too optimistic about the shower. Henry's hulking blue mass was sloppy and big for so small a space to go in on his own. She ended up having to go inside with him. Fallen gave them some privacy and stayed outside the door, ready to assist if she was called.

Star got the water running, nice and hot the way he liked it. They had installed a hand held shower in this bathroom for the handicapped so that was lucky. It was no trouble getting him properly wet. She didn't bother with soap, she just poured a generous amount of shampoo over his back and then rubbed it all in his fur, making a lovely smelling lather. He stayed as he was, leaning with his huge muscular arms to the wall, his head down between his elbows, and let her wash him without resistance. She was startled by how much more hairy he was. It was more obvious now that he was wet. He would have to be brushed when they were finished, not simply toweled dry or it was sure to mat. It was a change they would just have to deal with going forward.

As she rinsed the soap away he looked at her, wet and awake, his eyes fully clear. He knew her name now, the right one. "Star."

"Yes, my love."

He was shaking, still weak in his limbs, but the sanity remained there. His voice was coarse and growly, much deeper than it had been before, as he said, "Something... happened to me."

Her smile was sad. "Yes, my love."

"Something happened to me... and you fixed it."

"It wuz m' pleasure."

"I - I hurt you."

"Never on purpose."

"I'm sorry."

"There ain't nuthin' ta fergives."

He looked at his hands. The blood now was gone. He wasn't all there, not as sharp as he should be, but his waking brain knew some facts for certain. Star was Siskan. She did not bleed. "I - I hurt someone else."

"Remy. But it wuzn't serious. He worries only fer you, his good and dearest friend."

He closed his eyes, trembling all the harder. "How did this happen?"

"You wuz poisoned. The child Julien put Honey in yer mouth and then you wuz gone."

He opened his eyes in surprise at that, looking at her hard. He knew that Honey was fatal to any mutant that didn't have any kind of healing ability as Logan did. He knew that Star could repair some injuries, but he had no idea she would have been able to save him from something like this. For the first time he really saw her as she was now, her pale white face thin and bruised around the eyes. She was exhausted. It had taken a lot out of her to do this."Yer alive, but ya ain't the same as ya wuz an' fer that I'm powerful sorry," she said to him, her voice full of sorrow. Like Asher, she could read certain people well. She knew how his mind worked too well not to know what that look had meant. "I tried real hard but I wuzn't able to fix it all fer good. I don' thinks I kin makes ya any better than you is right now."

Careful now, he nuzzled her, his wet furry cheek to hers in as good a kiss as he could manage. "You -you saved my life. I'm forever in your debt."

"No," she said, "You saved mine when ya finally said yes ta me. I woulda done anathin's ta keeps ya with me. I would die fer you."

He growled a rough sob at that, pulling her close. "Let's hope... it never comes to that."

"Let's hope...." she repeated, falling easily into his embrace. She was happy now, happy for this, for his arms around her, safe and whole. What was done was done and they would work through his remaining recovery together. She had no doubt that her lovely Master would be able to fight his way back, not with her by his side. They had all the time in the world.

To be continued in Misconceptions.

--------------------

Author's notes: To those who read the comics, you might have already been familiar with "cat-Beast", Henry's recent secondary mutation. There's been a lot of back and forth about it on the boards, some like it, some hate it. I happen to kinda like it even if it is a bit of a pain to try and draw it right. I used Honey to try and bring our beloved doctor more up to date with his current 616 incarnation.

I had some extra time off so you guys shouldn't have to wait so long for Misconceptions. I am hoping to begin posting that by the end of April, barring any big emergencies. There should be only one more book after that and then this series should be wrapped up. Hope to see you all again soon.

~Squeekness


End file.
